Learning to Love a Liar
by embrace-the-deception
Summary: Sequel to I Didn't Know I Missed You. Sam and Dean are recovering and trying to trust their parents again. But there's still a secret to be told, and a dangerous enemy might be the one to reveal it. AU Teen-chester. Swearing, violence, abuse. COMPLETE
1. I Say Bitch, You Say Jerk

**Here it is! The sequel to _I Didn't Know I Missed You Until I Knew You'd Been Gone_! At least this one has a shorter title :P **

**It's been seven months since Sam and Dean met and realised they were brothers. Sam is still healing from his brutal attack, and Dean is still there to protect him every step of the way. The brothers are learning to trust their parents again, after they lied to them about them being related. It's a slow proces, but it'll happen eventually. Right? A long-held secret is yet to be uncovered, and a dangerous new enemy might jst be the one to reveal it.**

**Hope you enjoy this chapter, there's more on the way! Please read and review, I love feedback of all kinds! Critique it appreciated and loved. Even a simple 'I liked it!' is great! It motivates me to keep writing. If no one reviews then what's the point in posting it here? So, click the little review button at the bottom of the page, it needs some love!**

**I don't own Supernatural or any of the characters**

"Hey Sam, you're getting pretty good," Dean smirked as he flung his fist out at deadly speed.

Sam ducked, and spun, dealing a blow to Dean's stomach as he turned. The older boy stumbled back a pace, leaving an opening for Sam to swing a leg around. Dean recovered quickly and dodged the swing, staying out of range of Sam for the moment. The two circled, panting and sweating.

"You reckon?"

Dean grinned, and jumped back into the fight with a heavy blow to his little brother's chest. The younger tumbled backwards under the force, hitting the ground hard, the air rushing out of him. Dean was there in a second, hands holding down Sam's arms, a smirk on his face.

"Not good enough though," he chuckled.

Sam struggled in his brother's grip, and failed. He stared at Dean for a moment, then saw his advantage.

"Really? I thought I was."

Sam kicked up his leg, ramming his knee into Dean's thigh. As Dean was distracted for a second, Sam took the opportunity to wriggle free and leap onto his brother. The two rolled about in the grass, trading punches and blows.

"Didn't I ask you to try and not kill each other?"

The voice startled the two boys, and they sat up in the grass and looked towards the source. Their father was standing there, arms folded and a smile on his face. Sam and Dean glanced at each other and grinned. Each was covered with dirt and twigs and grass were caught in their hair. Dean reached out and messed with Sam's already fluffy hair, making it stick out further. Sam yelped and slapped him.

"My hair's bad enough as it is, Dean," he pouted.

"What are you, a girl? Worried about your hair?" Dean teased.

"Aren't you a little old for the whole 'tease your little brother' thing?" Sam rolled his eyes, picking out stuff from his tangled mess of hair.

"You're never too old for anything."

"Come on you two," John chuckled "We should head back; it's getting late."

Looking up at the sky, the boys saw the sun starting its descent towards the horizon. Already the light was starting to fade away, casting long shadows across the ground. Dean stood up, brushing off the worst of the dirt. He held out a hand to Sam. The young pushed it away and stood up on his own, shaking his head to rid his hair of the last of the twigs and grass. Dean laughed, and John tried not to, as Sam's hair puffed out like a big brown cloud.

"You look like a sheep," Dean smirked.

"Bite me."

Sam followed his father towards the Impala. Dean lagged behind, a smile on his face. It'd been seven months since he'd met his little brother for the first time in thirteen years, and six months since his abusive stepfather, Jason, had been killed. Since that day, the family had moved around, never staying in one place too long. It was a habit that a hunter just couldn't break. Over the months, Sam had started to open up again, becoming more and more like the sarcastic teenager Dean had first known.

"You coming?" John called over his shoulder.

Dean nodded, "Yeah."

He raced towards the pair standing by the gleaming black Impala. Dean ran a hand over the paintwork, smiling slightly.

"You have an unhealthy relationship with that car," Sam muttered under his breath.

Dean grinned. An insult slipped from the tip of his tongue and out into the air.

"Bitch."

John stared at his eldest son with surprise.

"Dean, don't..."

"Jerk," Sam shot back with a cocky smirk.

"Jerk? That's the best you've got?"

John sighed, and opened the driver's side door, "Come on, get in. Mary'll have a fit when she sees you two."

The two boys glanced at each other and grinned. With the amount of dirt that stained their clothes, skin and faces, and the messy shock of hair Sam was still trying to calm, Mary was going to have a mini-heart attack.

**/\/\**

"What on earth were you two doing?" Mary put her hand on her hips as her sons faced her. Both exchanged mischievous glances.

"I was just teaching Sam a few more moves," Dean said with a smirk.

Mary sighed. As much as she wanted Sam to be able to protect herself (she still wasn't letting him out without supervision until she was sure he could look after himself) she didn't want her two boys bashing each other senseless. Bruises were blooming on Dean's jaw, and there was one half-hidden by Sam's filthy t-shirt.

"You're going to kill each other one day," she sighed.

"I doubt it," Sam grinned "I won."

Dean looked at him, "You did not."

"Did so. I was just about to knock you out when John interrupted."

The other three Winchesters ignored the use of John's name. Sam was still a little hesitant to call him Dad, and Dean was still calling his mother Mary.

"You were not. I had you pinned down."

"Ha, I don't think so."

"Boys," John warned, stopping the argument before it got too far. The two were extremely competitive when it came to fights, and if someone didn't step in it could easily descend into chaos.

"Go get washed up. You're absolutely filthy," Mary rolled her eyes and folded her arms to emphasize her point. Sam grinned.

"I get the shower first!" he yelled, racing for the bathroom.

"Hell no!"

Dean ran after his little brother, and John and Mary watched them go, glancing at each other as the two disappeared around the corner.

"Boys," Mary smiled.

"Hey!"

From the other end of the rented house, shouts could be heard.

"Beat you again!" Sam yelled teasingly.

"You're right about the getting the shower first anyway. It's ladies first, isn't it?" Dean shot back.

The sound of a door opening broke the shouts.

"You're right. Want me to leave?"

John and Mary laughed.

**/\/\**

"Sam, John and I have something we want to ask you."

Sam looked up from his takeaway with worry. His mother was speaking with the tone she used when she had told him about marrying Jason, and when she had told him about her new job. She never used it very often, but whenever she did, Sam was afraid. Dean glanced from his little brother to Mary and John. He wondered what was going on.

"Yeah?" Sam finally answered.

Mary and John exchanged a look. There was a long pause as both of them tried to work up the courage to ask him whatever the dreaded question was. At last, John spoke.

"We want to know if you want to go back to school."

Sam stared at them. He'd been so worried about something terrible happening, and this was what they wanted to ask? He relaxed the muscles he hadn't known he'd tensed, and let out the breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding.

"You had me worried."

"We just thought you might not want to yet..." Mary started.

Sam interrupted her, "Sure. I was actually thinking about asking you lately."

Mary smiled, and John leaned back in his chair. Dean hid his smirk with his bacon cheeseburger.

"We're still going to be moving around though," John warned "So you'll be changing schools a lot. And since Dean's eighteen..."

"Yeah, I know. I'll be fine," Sam said quickly, excited on the inside. Even though Dean had turned eighteen last month and wouldn't be going to school anymore, he was sure he would be fine.

"Good," John smiled.

"Now you two should get to bed," Mary said, gesturing to the clock "It's nearly eleven."

"Aw, seriously?" Dean complained "I'm eighteen!"

"And you still have to sleep," John said, knowing that Dean was used to getting small amounts of sleep. He planned on changing that.

Dean muttered under his breath, and the brothers looked at each other, rolling their eyes. Dean shoved the last of the cheeseburger into his mouth as he stood up. Sam followed his brother from the room, waving good night to his parents.

**Interesting? Catch your attention? Like or love it? Hate it? Review!**


	2. Not Just Another Nightmare

**Here's chapter two, and getting right into the action! Some angst and violence here - ye have been warned! Read and review!**

As Sam drifted into sleep that night, he smiled at the thought of going to school again. He knew Dean hated it, but he was different – he loved school. At least, he had when he didn't have to keep explaining bruises and cuts to teachers. And when he actually had friends. Something told him this time was going to be different. This time school wasn't going to be hell.

Sam blinked his eyes open to see a dreaded, familiar sight. He frowned in confusion as he looked around the living room of the rented flat where Jason had almost killed him. He shivered as he saw the bloodstains on the wall, the floor, everywhere. He chewed his lip, wondering why he was here.

A soft sound from behind him made him spin. He never would have noticed a noise that quiet before, but since Dean had begun to teach him everything he knew about protecting himself, Sam had started to pick up on things he never had before. He gasped and stepped back at who he saw.

"Hey Sammy."

Jason smirked, leaning against the wall in total relaxation. Sam shivered again, biting his lip. He hadn't had a dream about Jason in four months. Why now? He stood up straighter as he remembered  
the obvious – it was a dream. He glared at Jason.

"You're only a dream," Sam said, closing his eyes and pinching himself.

Pain flickered up his arm and his eyes flew open. His heart sank as he realised he was still in the same room. Jason chuckled darkly, and pushed himself off the wall.

"Tis only a dream Sammy. But you're not waking up until I let you."

"You can't do that," Sam shot back, his voice shaking. Inside, he berated himself for being afraid of Jason now. The man was dead, he couldn't hurt him anymore. Jason just laughed and walked  
towards him. Sam held his ground.

"You've changed. You're braver. Stronger."

Sam smiled proudly, "That's what happens when Dean is your teacher."

"Dean, eh? That son of a bitch is gonna get what's coming to him, but for now, I'm just gonna deal with you," Jason spat out the curse, and smiled as he reached the end of his sentence. He advanced closer to Sam, who still didn't move. Now the two were almost toe-to-toe. Sam glared up defiantly at the older man.

"This is going to be so much fun Sammy."

"Don't call me Sammy."

"I can call you what I damn well feel like, you fucking piece of shit."

Sam wasn't prepared for the backhanded blow that struck his face. He tumbled backwards, rubbing his cheek in shock. He stared up from his position on the floor as Jason stepped closer and knelt. The man took Sam's head in his hand, holding it so the boy couldn't move it.

"You're dead. This is just a dream and you can't hurt me," Sam muttered angrily.

"You keep telling yourself that."

**/\/\**

Dean awoke slowly, blinking his eyes open to darkness. He sat up, glancing at the clock by his bedside. The glowing red numbers showed the time to be two forty one in the morning. Dean grumbled, running a hand through his hair. He frowned for a second, wondering what had woken him. A small sound from the other side of the room caught his attention.

Dean flicked on the lamp by his bed, and saw Sam's bed on the other side of the room. His little brother was tossing and turning, muttering in his sleep. Dean sighed, a little curious and worried at the same time. Sam hadn't had a nightmare in a long time.

He slipped out of bed and padded softly over to his brother. Sam's fists were clenched tightly, his eyes screwed shut, and he was twisting and turning. Anger was evident on his face. Dean shook his shoulder.

"Sam, wake up. Sam," Dean said quietly.

Sam didn't respond. He just kept muttering and kicking. Dean frowned – that usually worked.

"Sammy? Come on Sam, wake up."

He shook Sam harder, and raised his voice above a whisper. Sam still seemed to be deep in his nightmare, fighting with something. Dean was scared now. Sam should be awake.

He was about to stand up to shake his brother harder in the hope that might rouse him, when Sam suddenly yelled.

"Don't! Why can't you just die!"

Dean barely had time to register what Sam had said when the boy swung a fist out. It connected with Dean's already bruised jaw and sent him stumbling backwards in surprise. Dean rubbed his jaw, staring in shock. Sam was fighting harder now. His hands were together in front of him as if they were bound, and Dean tried to pull them apart. He couldn't move them at all. Dean clenched his fists a few times, utterly lost at what to do. Suddenly he realised.

_Mary. Dad_

He raced from the room, already feeling guilty for leaving Sam alone. He almost ran into his father in the hallway.

"Dean? What's going on, we heard yelling," John asked.

"Sam's having a nightmare. A really bad one; I can't wake him up. And he's yelling and..." Dean trailed off as another shout tore through the still air.

"You're a sick bastard! Just be dead for God's sake. It's a dream, just die!"

John and Dean exchanged worried looks, and Mary appeared behind John.

"What's going on?"

The three ran back to the boys' room. Sam was writhing now, fighting as hard as he could. His hands were still bound and Dean gasped at the sight of thin indentations on his wrists.

"What the hell is going on?" John muttered lowly as he knelt by Sam's bedside. The boy flailed and thrashed against his unseen bindings.

**/\/\**

"Don't!" Sam yelled as Jason punched him hard in the face "Why can't you just die?"

Jason just laughed, which only angered Sam further. He flung out a fist. He felt the satisfying sound of Jason's face under his hand as he punched him hard.

"Fucking bastard," Jason swore as he righted himself. He jumped forward and pulled something from his pocket. Sam fought him as Jason bound his wrists with the dreaded wire.

Sam struggled, pulling as hard as he dared on his finally-healed wrists. Jason chuckled with more malice than Sam had ever heard in his voice before. Sam closed his eyes for the millionth time and opened them again in the vain hope this time would work.

When he opened his eyes to Jason, he yelled, "You're a sick bastard! Just be dead for God's sake. It's a dream, just die!"

Jason smirked, and Sam fought harder. Pain shot from his wrists and up his arms. Jason knelt down and forced the boy to stop struggling.

"I think I might leave it here," he said with a slight smile "But I'll be seeing you again later, kiddo."

"Fuck you."

Jason reached down and removed the wire. Sam took advantage, his training kicking in, and leapt for Jason. They tumbled to the ground, Sam ramming punch after punch onto Jason's face.

**/\/\**

"Fuck you," Sam muttered, tossing onto his side and back again. John looked at Mary helplessly from his position next to the bed, whilst Dean stayed by his brother's bedside, one hand on his shoulder. Suddenly, the indents on Sam's wrists lessened, and Sam sprung into movement. He thrashed wildly, one fist punching the air fiercely. Dean jumped back to avoid being hit again. John wasn't quick enough, and ended up with a punch to the side of his face.

Just as suddenly as it had all started, it stopped. Sam yelled something unintelligible and sat bolt upright, sweat pouring from the exertion, eyes wide with shock. His muscles were still tensed, fists clenched.

"Sam?" Dean called, moving back towards his brother. Sam looked to him, confusion spreading across his face.

"What..." Sam turned to see John and Mary watching him in shock. Mary was staring with wide eyes, supporting herself on the doorframe. John was still knelt by the bed, and he put a hand on Sam's shoulder.

"What happened?" Sam asked before anyone else could.

"We could ask you the same thing. You looked like you were stuck in a nightmare. We couldn't wake you up," John explained "You were yelling and swearing and punching everyone."

Sam finally noticed the marks on John's face, and glanced at Dean, seeing the same marks. He bit his lip.

"Sorry. I don't... I don't know what I was doing."

John patted him on the shoulder comfortingly, "It's okay. We just want to know what you were dreaming about that was so bad you couldn't wake up."

Sam remembered everything with perfect clarity. Every action, every word, every stinging blow dealt by both he and Jason. He suppressed a shudder.

"I don't remember."

John looked at Mary. Sam knew neither of them believed him, but he didn't really care. Lying was something that seemed to be normal in this family. He flashed a quick look to Dean, and immediately looked away when he saw his brother's worried face. He hated lying to Dean. But if anyone knew he'd started having nightmares about Jason again, they'd never let him go anywhere again.

John and Mary stayed a few minutes longer, before eventually leaving. Sam was glad when the door finally shut behind them. It meant he didn't have to lie to them anymore.

The silence between him and Dean was long and tense. Dean sat on the end of his bed, just watching his little brother. Sam lay back down and stared up at the ceiling, trying to ignore the eerie feeling of being watched.

"You can go back to sleep. I'm fine."

"No you're not. That was no ordinary nightmare. It was about Jason, wasn't it?"

Sam rolled over and buried his head in his pillow, effectively forcing silence. When the feeling of being watched didn't ease, Sam turned back to face his brother.

"Just leave it. I'm fine, don't worry, and go back to sleep."

"Sam, you couldn't wake up. That's not normal. Why can't you just tell me what's wrong?"

"Because nothing's wrong."

Dean sighed. There was nothing else he was going to get out of Sam tonight. He went back to bed, lying on his side and flicking off the lamp. He stared at the wall until he heard Sam's breathing start to slow and even out. Only then did he relax enough to fall asleep.


	3. Still Here

**Another chapter, another day XD Enjoy, read, review! Thanks to everyone who has reviewed and commented on this, I appreciate and love every single one and every single one of you!**

Sam woke early, and slipped out of bed as quietly as he could. He silently thanked Dean for teaching him how to walk quietly and sneak around, although he knew his brother would kick himself if he knew that Sam was using his training against him. Sam quietly dressed and headed out the door, closing it quietly behind him.

The sun had just cleared the horizon as Sam wandered down the almost empty street. The only people around were early morning joggers. Some of them waved as they passed the teenager, and he absently waved in response.

He walked as the sun rose higher. Cars began to drive past him, their occupants on the way to work. He didn't really care what time it was anyway. Eventually, he came to the park where he and Dean had been the previous day. He wandered through, watching the kids on their way to school. They stopped to mess around on the play equipment, laughing and joking as they pushed and chased each other.

Coming to a park bench, Sam sat down, bored. He didn't want to go back home, because then he'd have to face his family. They'd be seriously pissed that he'd left without telling anyone. His mother would be angry that he'd gone out alone, and after last night, no one would want him going anywhere. He sighed, watching the kids run around. They all started to blur as Sam found himself thinking about Jason again.

The son of a bitch was dead. He was sure of that. Not only had Dean, John and Mary told him, but he'd heard the shot, he'd seen the blood on the ground sparkling under the streetlights that night. He'd seen Jason's body being carried away in a body bag. The man was one hundred percent dead.

The nightmares had ended a little over four months ago, when he'd finally found the courage to stand up to his fears. Since then, he hadn't had a dream about Jason at all.

_So why now?_ Sam asked himself silently, closing his eyes.

"Shouldn't you be in school?"

The rough voice startled Sam, and he opened his eyes, muscles tensing. The man standing above him folded his arms and raised an eyebrow questioningly. He had the whole trucker look going, with the cap and beard looking rather cliché. Sam barely relaxed as the man sat down next to him, looking out at the kids in the playground who were now starting to leave for school. They sat in silence for a moment, Sam wondering who this guy was and why he was talking to him. He reminded him of one of Jason's friends, with the rough voice and strong-looking body build.

"So, school?" the man finally said.

"I..." Sam wasn't sure whether to reply. Since he was little he'd always been told not to talk to strangers, especially weird old men. In the end, he decided to go for it. Who cared?

"I don't go. Not yet."

"Oh?" The stranger raised an eyebrow, glancing at him for a second before turning back to the rapidly-emptying playground.

"Yeah. I had to leave for a while. But I'm going back soon," Sam wondered if his parents would let him go after what had happened last night and what he was doing now.

The man nodded slightly in response, and the conversation lapsed into silence. Sam fidgeted, hating the silence that let his thoughts wander back to Jason.

"I'm Sam."

The man looked over and didn't reply. Eventually, he clapped Sam on the shoulder.

"Bobby. You live around here?"

"No. I'm just staying for a while."

"Eh, me too. Visiting a friend. More like hunting him down, actually," Bobby amended.

"Hunting down?" Sam suppressed a shiver. Jason had done just that six months ago.

"Yeah. He dropped off the radar a couple months back, and he wouldn't answer his phone. So I tracked him down to here, and I'm bloody well going to find out why the idjit has been ignoring his  
friend."

Sam hid a smile. Bobby reminded him not of Jason's friend now, but Dean. He knew his older brother would do just that if he went missing. He sighed, finally looking at his watch. It was just past nine o'clock. He'd been out for at least three hours, possibly longer. Everyone would be up by now and probably looking for him. Rolling his eyes, he stood up.

"I should go. My family will probably be looking for me by now."

"You run away or something?"

"Or something," Sam gave Bobby a half-smile, and waved. Bobby stood up too.

"You seem like a good kid, Sam. Don't mess your life up by doing stupid stuff."

Sam nodded, and headed off for home, leaving Bobby alone.

**/\/\**

Sam opened the door silently and poked his head around, looking in all directions. No one was nearby, and he slipped inside.

"Sam!"

Sam cringed, wondering how Dean knew just when he'd returned. His brother appeared in front of him, anger covering up the worry underneath.

"Where the hell were you?"

"I went for a walk," Sam shrugged, pushing past Dean to walk to his room. Dean stopped him with a hand on his shoulder, turning Sam to face him.

"Without telling us? Without telling me? I was just about to come and look for you! What's going on with you, Sam? Is this about what happened last night?"

Sam listened to Dean rant, his anger slowly bubbling up inside him. As Dean finished, Sam violently pushed his brother away, glaring with frustration.

"I don't have to tell you everything! Just 'cause you're older doesn't mean you get to boss me around all the time! I'm fine, and you don't need to keep worrying about me!"

Dean stared at Sam, stunned by his outburst. Sam stopped abruptly and swallowed. He turned and stormed away, already the guilt starting to weigh down on him. He'd never yelled at Dean. Not even when the prank war last month, where things had almost gotten out of control. He slammed the door to his room, leaning against it and closing his eyes. He sank down to the floor, putting his head in his hands.

This was all Jason's fault. Why couldn't the bastard just leave him alone? Ever since he'd come in to Sam's life nearly four years ago, Jason had been a constant presence, always waiting around the corner. Even after he was dead, he still couldn't let go.

Sam shivered as he realised he was freezing. He rubbed his arms, but couldn't be bothered getting up to get a jacket. He just sat there, leaning his back against the door.

"Sam?"

Mary's soft voice came from the other side of the door, and Sam ignored her.

"Sam? Please open the door."

"G-g-go a-away," Sam's teeth chattered in the cold.

"Sam? Are you okay?"

Sam chuckled darkly. No, he wasn't okay really. Wasn't it a little obvious.

Mary tried the doorknob, and it rattled. Sam pushed against the door to keep it closed. He didn't want to deal with anyone right now. But Mary seemed determined not to let her son get away with running away earlier, and pushed back with equal force. Sam tumbled forward as the door was opened suddenly, and just as quickly as the cold had appeared, it disappeared. Sam rolled onto his back as Mary looked around the door.

"Sam, what's going on? You sounded like your teeth were chattering."

Sam muttered a low response, "I was cold."

"It's not..." Mary trailed off, her unspoken words obvious. The sun was shining brightly, warming the room to an almost perfect temperature.

"Just leave me alone, okay?" Sam stood up and sat down on his bed, facing away from his mother.

"I need to know why you left this morning."

"I just wanted to be alone for a while. Like now."

Mary sighed as Sam rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. She closed the door quietly, her heart pounding with suspicion, worry and doubt.

**/\/\**

Mary headed to where Dean was waiting in the kitchen, John beside him.

"Is he okay?" Dean asked, the worry behind his question well-disguised. Just not quite well enough.

"I think so. He just wants to be alone. But..."

"What?" John asked, curious.

"He said he was cold. I heard his teeth chattering when he answered me."

Dean looked puzzled, "But it's not cold at all."

"I know. When I went in there, it was fine."

John sighed, "It's probably nothing."

Mary nodded, "Probably. I hope so."

There was a knock at the door, startling everyone. Dean glanced at his father before leaving the kitchen to open it. Carefully, he opened the door and poked his head outside. When he saw who was there his face lit up.

"Bobby!"

Bobby smiled, "Dean. You've certainly grown. How old are you now?"

"Eighteen."

"Can I come in?"

Dean opened the door further and let Bobby walk in. He directed Bobby to the kitchen, happy to see an old friend.

"John."

John looked up from where he was talking to Mary, and his eyes widened.

"Bobby."

"Where the hell have you been? You just disappeared."

John walked over, "I'm sorry. I've had so much to deal with lately, I never got the chance to call or see you."

"You could have answered my calls."

"Like I said, there's been a lot to deal with. If I could've, I would've. You know that."

The two men stared at each other for a minute, the air around them still and tense with suspicion. At last, Bobby rolled his eyes and clapped John on the back.

"I'm not forgiving you for this," he warned.

John smiled, glad to be seeing his friend. Mary coughed pointedly, hands on her hips. John realised she didn't know who Bobby was.

"Bobby, this is Mary. Mary, this is an old hunting friend of mine, Bobby."

"Mary?" Bobby gave John a look that clearly said 'what the hell?' John gave him a look in return that had 'I'll tell you later' written across it.

"When you two are finished reading each other's minds, maybe we could sit down instead of standing in here?" Mary said.

Dean hid a smirk. Bobby and John rolled their eyes, and followed Mary to the living room. Dean waited a moment before walking after them.

**/\/\**

"So, what was so important that you couldn't call me back?" Bobby asked when they were seated.

John glanced at Mary and Dean before answering. Dean wondered how his father would respond.

"You remember I told you about when Mary and I split?"

Bobby nodded.

"Well...Dean isn't my only kid."

Bobby raised an eyebrow, clearly confused. He waited for John to explain the strange remark.

"I took Dean when Mary and I left each other. She took the younger son. Dean found him six months ago, and saved his life from a psychopathic abuser."

Dean hid a smile at how his father spoke. There was obvious praise in his voice, and although he knew he would never say it out loud, Dean knew his father would proud of him.

"Well," Bobby said, digesting this bit of news "This is... interesting."

"His name's Sam," Dean spoke up.

Bobby looked at the teenager when Sam's name was said. He looked a little curious.

"Sam? He didn't happen to run away this morning, did he?"

The three Winchesters exchanged shocked glances.

"How..." Mary started.

"I met him this morning at the park. Didn't realise he was your kid. Now that I think about it, he does look a little like you," Bobby said, nodding his head to John.

**/\/\**

The knock at the door made Sam open his eyes. He sighed.

"What?"

"Well, that's friendly," a familiar voice said from the other side.

Sam sat upright and stared at the door. What was he doing here? He slid off the bed and slowly opened the door. Bobby was standing there.

"What..."

"You know I said I was looking for a friend? His name's John."

Sam stared at Bobby, surprised. That was unexpected, to say the least.

"I think Dean wants to talk to you," Bobby said, stepping aside to reveal the older brother.

Sam swallowed, and let Dean in, shutting the door behind him. He turned to his brother, preparing to apologise for his outburst.

"I'm sorry."

Sam frowned as Dean beat him to it. Dean wasn't the type to say sorry. And he hadn't even done anything wrong!

"What for?"

"I was worried about you. I guess I was a little overprotective," Dean mumbled.

"I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have yelled at you."

Sam hung his head, and there was silence for a moment.

"Okay, chick flick moment over," Dean said quickly, and Sam smiled, looking up to his brother. Dean grinned.

**Yayz for brotherly love and Bobby! Hope you enjoyed, please read and review!**


	4. Safe In The Dark

**Sorry for the long wait everyone, but school's been getting in the way again, and I've been sick over the last week too. But I'm on the mend and ready to keep writing! Hope you like this chapter, I figured Bobby would do something like this. And yes, the only song I can think of for Supernatural is Eye of the Tiger. I blame super cute Jensen Ackles XD**

"Hey, you wanna go do some training or something? Might get your mind off all this," Dean suggested. Sam nodded in response, and both boys headed to the door. The adults were in the living room, and Dean poked his head in to ask permission.

"Dad, can Sam and I head out for a while? Gonna do some training."

John nodded, "Take the car."

Dean grinned and ducked back out. He and Sam headed outside to the Impala. Dean took the driver's seat, and Sam claimed shotgun. As the Impala's engine roared into life, the radio began to play Eye of the Tiger. Sam and Dean exchanged glances at smiled. The song held memories for them, from seven months ago when Dean had first invited Sam to come over his place. It'd been a step towards Jason's downfall and the revelation of family. Sam shook his head.

"Is there nothing better on?" he asked, although Dean knew he didn't really mind this particular song. Not with the happier memories attached to it.

"Shut up. Remember the rule?" Dean smirked as he started to drive.

Sam rolled his eyes, "Driver picks the music..."

"And shotgun shuts his cakehole," Dean finished.

**/\/\**

Arriving at the empty park, Dean shut off the engine and slipped out of the car. Sam followed, as Dean headed to the grassy area they'd been practising in before, hidden by a row of bushes and trees. It meant that if anyone did happen to come through the park while they were there, then they wouldn't be seen beating each other up.

The moment Sam stepped onto the grass, Dean swung a punch. Quick reflexes were all that saved Sam from a bloody nose, and he stumbled back a pace. He barely hesitated for a second before leaping into the fight, both fists flying.

The two circled, lashing out every few seconds when they thought they had the advantage. Punches flew, feet swung out as deadly weapons. Dean caught Sam in the leg and knocked him to the ground with a well-aimed kick. Sam hit the ground hard, and Dean was on him in seconds. He held his brother down, waiting for a surrender.

Sam struggled for a moment before giving up. He lay his head back against the grass, uncaring. He couldn't care less if he won this fight – it didn't matter. What mattered to him was that the nightmares were back and everyone was continuing to treat him like a little kid. Even though Dean and he were still training, he knew his older brother was going easy on him. That hold would have been a cinch to escape from, and Dean knew it. Dean let go and stood up.

"Why'd you give up?" he looked down at Sam with slight confusion.

"Why not? It was the only possible way you would ever win," Sam muttered as he stood.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Sam stared at the ground, hurt crossing his face. Dean swallowed at the familiar look.

"You were going easy on me. I'm not a little kid, Dean. Why can't you see that? Everyone seems to think I can't take care of myself, and I can!" Sam looked up, the hope on his face trying to get his  
point across to his older brother "I never get the chance to prove myself. How am I supposed to use any of the stuff I've been taught if I never get the chance? If you guys keep looking after me all the time?"

Dean nodded. His little brother was right. Ever since he'd first seen the bruises on Sam's body, ever since he'd first had the sneaking suspicion that something wasn't quite right in Sam's home, he'd been protective of Sam. Even though at the time he didn't know they were brothers, he still fought his hardest to keep Sam safe. His wary eye and suspicion had kept Sam alive seven months ago, but the feeling of having to keep watch over his brother had never faded over time. He still felt as strongly about Sam's safety as he did when he'd raced out of his flat to rescue Sam from being murdered by Jason.

"I already said sorry. I don't know what else I can do, Sammy."

"You can stop acting like I'm three years old. You know I can protect myself – so let me do it," Sam replied, the desperation to be independent obvious in his voice.

Dean sighed quietly. Letting Sam look after himself meant letting him go a little. Only a little, but he would still have to start to release the hold Sam had over his heart. The grip that his little brother had over his heart was so strong, Dean wasn't sure he could really let go enough for Sam to be happy. But he had to try - he owed it to Sam to let him be himself and not live in his older brother's shadow.

"Okay. I'll try."

Sam sighed in relief, and a half-smile crossed his face. Dean smiled in return. He didn't see the punch coming until it had hit him in the face, literally. He stumbled back a pace, and stared in confusion to his grinning little brother.

"Don't go easy on me this time," Sam smirked, throwing another speeding punch.

Dean dodged with a grin, and spun. Almost gracefully, his leg swung out as he ducked low. Nearly on one knee, Dean had a little trouble keeping his balance as his leg connected with Sam's calf. The younger boy went down to his knees, and Dean fell back on his butt for a moment.  
_  
Not the best move, but it worked_

Dean scrambled to his feet as Sam did, and the two circled each other again, fists at the ready.

"You sure you don't want me to go easy?" Dean asked. Sam didn't know, but Dean had been going relatively easy on him ever since training had started. The only reason Sam was coming close to  
beating him was because Dean wasn't trying as hard as he could have.

Sam smirked, "I can handle whatever you can throw at me."

Dean shrugged, and leapt into the battle. He didn't hold back as he swung punch after punch towards Sam. The younger ducked and dodged with surprising ease, and slipped around behind Dean. The older boy turned as quickly as he could, annoyed by Sam's agility. He was taken by surprise as Sam leapt onto his back and put him in a chokehold. Sam forced Dean to his knees by his weight and the lack of air getting into Dean's lungs. Dean struggled and managed to throw his little brother over his head and onto his back on the ground. Sam recovered quickly, and they moved back into the fight.

For hours, it seemed like the fight would never end. Each time someone got the upper hand, the other would undermine them and the fight would continue on. Panting and dripping with sweat, Sam grinned.

"Damn. You're better than you let on."

Dean, breathless from endless punches, kicks and spins, was barely able to reply, "Same to you."

The pair circled for what seemed to be the hundredth time that day, until suddenly Sam stopped. He straightened and held out his hand. Dean did the same, albeit more slowly and reluctant.

"Call it a draw?" Sam asked between deep breaths.

Dean hesitated for a second, then shook Sam's hand. A draw he could live with. Even if it was to the annoying little brother he hadn't even known he'd had seven months ago. Dean smirked, and clapped Sam on the shoulder.

"How'd you dodge that kick? I had you almost pinned down, and you managed to move out of the way of the kick that would have brought you down. The only way you could have moved in time was if you'd known I was going to do it before I knew! How'd you do it?"

Sam smiled and looked at his brother as they walked back to the Impala.

"You're pretty predictable, Dean. I knew it was coming."

Dean frowned. He wasn't predictable, was he? He opened his mouth to ask, then shut it again. Maybe he didn't want to know. Sam laughed as they got into the car.

"What?"

"I totally made all that up, you know."

Dean glared, and Sam collapsed against the seat in laughter.

"So how did you do it then?" Dean asked with a roll of his eyes and a shake of his head. He turned the key and the engine came to life.

"It was a complete accident."

There was a moment's silence, before the two started to laugh.

**/\/\**

"You were out for a while," Bobby commented when Sam and Dean returned back home. The pair grinned, Sam rubbing the sweat from his forehead.

"Now we know Sam has an immense amount of luck," Dean grinned, ruffling his brother's hair. Sam rolled his eyes and pushed Dean away with a smirk. Bobby shook his head.

"Boys. Always competitive," he muttered, which only made Dean and Sam laugh.

"So, how's the hunting going?" Bobby asked, glancing at Sam "Any good?"

Sam frowned, confused, and Dean stared at Bobby with a frantic worried look. Bobby looked almost as confused as Sam, but seemed to get the message. He shut up.

"Sam, gimme a minute, okay?" Dean asked without looking at his little brother.

"But..."

"Please?"

"I thought we agreed. No treating me like a little kid," Sam crossed his arms and glared at his brother.

Dean sighed, "I'll tell you. Promise. Just let me talk to Bobby first, okay?"

Sam huffed and walked off, throwing a suspicious glance in Dean and Bobby's direction before disappearing into his room. There was a moment's silence before Bobby spoke.

"Am I missing something here?"

"We haven't hunted since I found Sam," Dean explained.

Bobby looked surprised, "Why not?"

Dean sighed. He ran a hand through his hair, "Mary never taught Sam how to hunt. She only started hunting again when Sam was ten. He doesn't know."

"How the hell can he not know?" Bobby shook his head "What're you gonna tell him when you start up again?"

"Who says we're gonna start again?" Dean shot back.

"Dean, you've been hunting since you were old enough to hold a gun. Both your parents hunt. It's in your blood, and you're not gonna be able to just walk away."

"Watch me. I'm not gonna put Sam through that, and I don't care what you or Dad or Mary say. He's never gonna know."

"He can't hide from it forever, and neither can you."

"Sam got beaten up by a psychopath for three years. He was nearly murdered twice. How am I supposed to tell him that there are scarier monsters out there? I can't do it Bobby. I'm not going to,"  
Dean folded his arms and glared, daring Bobby to argue. The man rose to the challenge.

"If you don't tell him, he's gonna find out one way or another. And then what? He's not gonna trust you, because you lied to him. Hasn't he been lied to enough?"

"Don't you turn this around on me. You don't know anything about Sam," Dean swore, stepping up so that he was barely an inch from Bobby. The older man remained calm.

"Neither do you. But I know that he's never gonna trust you again if you keep lying to him. I'm not trying to screw your lives up, Dean. I'm trying to make sure that Sam doesn't end up in a worse situation than ever before."

"I know more about Sam than anyone does," Dean said, knowing it was the absolute truth "And you can stay out of this; it has nothing to do with you."

With that, Dean stalked off towards his room, leaving Bobby standing in the doorway.

**/\/\**

"What was that all about? What did he mean by hunting?" Sam asked as soon as Dean had shut the door. Dean sat down on the bed and sighed.

"Nothing. Dad and me used to hunt sometimes. I guess Bobby thought you did too."

"I don't see you as the hunting type," Sam commented, and Dean almost laughed. If only the kid knew just what he hunted. If only he knew.

"Like I said, we don't anymore."

Sam titled his head, confused, "What was the big argument about?"

"What argument?"

"I could hear bits of it from here. Something about never telling me."

Dean rolled his eyes, thanking some deity that Sam hadn't heard all of it.

"I didn't want you to learn how to hunt. It's stupid, and dangerous."

"You didn't have to hide the fact you used to hunt," Sam pointed out.

"Yeah. Didn't want you getting any ideas though," Dean said, glancing at his little brother.

Sam smiled a bit and chuckled. Dean breathed a sigh of relief. Sam still didn't know, was still in the dark. But how long could he keep it that way?

**Read and review! I love reviews, they're the first thing I look for in the morning when I get up XD Hugs! I hope the next chapter can be up sooner, but we'll see what school has to say about that...**


	5. My Heart Breaks For You

**Phew! Sorry about the long wait everyone, but I've been pretty busy with school. Also, I've been away at a friend's house over the weekend, and tomorrow I'm going away with my family for the week. I may or may not have internet, but I will continue to write if I get time. Hopefully! Obssession, Primeval Preschool, The A to Z of Primeval and hopefully A Different Kind of Different will all be updated soon. By next week I hope. And of course, another chapter of this is already in the works in my head! Anyway, enjoy the chapter, hope you like it, and read and review please!**

That night, Sam stayed awake as long as he could. He wasn't sure if the dream was going to come back or not, but he preferred not to risk it. Dean was asleep about fifteen minutes after they went to bed, but Sam stayed up longer. It was at least three hours after the lights had gone off and the house had gone silent before Sam finally drifted off into unwilling sleep.

Sam opened his eyes after what seemed like just a moment later to see the familiar room surrounding him, the walls still spattered with his own blood. He looked around, oblivious to the fact that he was shivering with fear. He saw nothing but the room around him. There was no Jason.

"Good to see you again Sam," a voice echoed, and Sam's heart skipped a beat before starting to race at a hundred miles an hour. He turned around to see his tormentor of three years standing in front of him, smiling.

"I'm not afraid of you," Sam said, trying to keep the tremor out of his voice. He had passed scared when he'd woken in the living room, and his frantically beating heart pounding under his shirt gave away his fear.

Jason stepped forward, the smile never leaving his face.

"I think you are Sam. In fact, I know you are. You can't hide anything from me here. I know everything."

Sam ducked as he saw Jason's right hand flying to backhand him across the face. He lashed out in the general direction of Jason, hoping to catch him. His fist connected with flesh, and Jason stumbled back from the blow to his stomach. He recovered quickly, and jumped back into the fight.

**/\/\**

"I'm not afraid of you."

Dean groaned as he awoke to the sound of Sam's low voice muttering away from the other side of the room. He blinked and sat up, rubbing his eyes tiredly with one hand. He glanced at his brother. Sam was obviously tensed under the blanket, his muscles rigid, and there was a look of pure fear on his face. Dean was by his side in an instant, knowing this was a repeat of the previous night.

He put a hand on Sam's shoulder a second before his brother twisted. Dean jumped back as Sam shot out a punch. He watched as Sam started to whimper lowly, his eyes screwed up in pain, lashing out whenever he could. Dean could almost feel the blows Sam seemed to be experiencing as he knelt by his brother's side, hating how helpless he was against this.

"I will never be afraid of you," Sam muttered, anger tainting his quiet voice.

Dean swallowed in pride as Sam started to attack with more ferocity. Punch after punch lashed at the air, apparently hitting whatever Sam was dreaming about.

"Dean?"

Dean turned as he heard his name being called. In the doorway stood his parents, worry on their faces. John hid his well, but Dean could still see it under that mask of calm.

"I know you can't really hurt me. You can't. You can hurt me as much as you like here, but I'll wake up soon, and then I'll be okay."

Sam's voice was strong but tired. Dean looked back to him, hoping this would be when he would wake up.

**/\/\**

Sam glared through his arms as he cowered under Jason's blows. The man rained down punches and kicks, never letting up. Finally, Sam rolled out of the way, dodging a savage kick. He staggered to his feet, wincing under the pain.

"I know you can't really hurt me. You can't. You can hurt me as much as you like here, but I'll wake up soon, and then I'll be okay."

Jason stared at Sam for a moment, then burst out laughing. He was in hysterics for a moment, and Sam stared at him in shock. When Jason finally calmed down, he fixed his eye on Sam.

"You have no idea. You don't know just what I can do to you."

Jason laughed again, then waved his hand, almost like a magician. Sam's vision began to swirl around him. He blinked, disorientated. A moment later, his sight refocused and he saw his room, and Dean above him.

"Dean?" he called, relieved.

His brother stared at him, and shook him by the shoulders. He started mouthing something – Sam could hear nothing. He tried to yell again.

A laugh echoed in Sam's head, like a shout in a cavern. Sam twisted his head in confusion.

"He can't hear you, Sammy. Just like you can't hear him," Jason's voice reverberated.

"Dean, help me!" Sam yelled "Help!"

"Always running to Dean for help," Jason chuckled as Dean looked panicky, mouthing the word "Sammy!"

Sam shouted again, hating himself more with every word. He couldn't move either; he struggled to sit up, but his arms were pinned to his side, and his legs felt as if they were weighed down.

"How about we bring Dean in the next time?" Jason said and Sam stiffened in fear.

"No! You can't do that! It's impossible!" Sam screamed in anger, hoping with everything he was that he was right. That it was impossible. That his dream was just trying to terrify him with the one thing that he feared the most – Jason hurting Dean.

"Oh yes I can. I think I will next time. Maybe. We'll see."

The echo of Jason's laugh faded away, and Sam's vision went black. The last thing he saw was Dean shaking him, yelling his name, trying to bring him out of his strange wide-eyed state. A moment later, he realised he could move, and his eyes flashed open. Again he saw Dean above him, but now he could hear what he was saying.

"Sammy! Can you hear me?"

"Dean!" Sam cried, sitting up and grabbing his older brother. He held onto him as if the world would end if he let go, but that wasn't what Sam was afraid of. He was holding onto him in the fear Jason  
would get his brother if he released his grip. Dean tightened his arms around Sam, and the younger buried his head in Dean's shoulder.

"What happened, Sammy?" Dean muttered, knowing there was no point in asking if he was okay. The answer was obvious.

Sam didn't reply, just held on as tight as he could. Eventually, he heard voices calling him, and he slowly looked up. Mary and John were standing nearby, worry and relief vying for space on their faces. Neither moved towards him – this was a moment between brothers.

"Sam, what happened?" Dean asked again.

Sam took a deep breath, wondering how he was supposed to tell Dean that Jason was haunting him in his dreams. How was he supposed to tell his brother that the nightmares had returned, worse than ever? Sam looked at Dean for a moment.

"Jason."

One word was all it took for Dean to understand, at least in part. He bit his lip and put a hand on Sam's shoulder.

"He was there. He hurt me," Sam mumbled, the truth revealing itself at last "Like he always used to."

No one spoke as Sam paused for a moment. They waited with bated breath for him to continue, although all three weren't sure they would like what they were about to hear.

"I tried to fight back. I punched him a lot. But he was stronger, and he kept hitting me. Then I told him he couldn't hurt me, not really. 'Cause he was only a dream. That's when it all changed, and I could see you," Sam looked at Dean and swallowed.

"I tried to call to you, but I heard Jason in my head telling me you couldn't hear me. He said..."

Sam choked off the sentence. He felt the urge to lean forward and hug his brother tight, but he resisted. He was almost fifteen, afraid of a nightmare. He refused to appear weaker than he already felt and knew he looked.

Dean seemed to understand, and instead of hugging him like he knew Sam wanted, he simply ruffled his hair. There wasn't much else he could do.  
Sam suddenly pushed Dean away and shot out of bed. Dean watched as Sam raced from the room, slamming the door behind him. He waited a moment, glancing at his parents before following.

**/\/\**

Sam ran to the front door, ripping it open and feeling a cold blast of air hit him. His feet pounded the hard surface of the driveway. He kept his head down to keep the tears from falling. With his eyes screwed shut, he didn't see where he was going. He crashed into the Impala head on. He slid down the front, hands to his face in an effort to keep back the tears that were building up behind his eyes.

_You're weak Sam. You can't even handle a freaking nightmare. You're almost fifteen and you scream for your brother to help you. You cry like a girl. You're weak Sam Winchester. No, you're too weak to be able to have the privilege of calling yourself a Winchester. You're no one, Sam. No one. Just a pathetic, weak, crying girl. You're a Wesson, Sam. A Wesson, and you know it. Jason owns you. You think about him every day, you go to sleep in fear of him, you can't hear his name without thinking back to those years of hell. He owns you. And there's nothing you can do about it._

The hateful thoughts screamed through his head, getting louder and louder as they carried on. Sam wanted to beat his head against the concrete driveway until they stopped. He wanted them to shut up. They were wrong. They had to be wrong.

"Sam?"

He didn't look up when he heard his brother's voice over the screaming in his head. He felt Dean sit down beside him, felt his arm around his shoulder. Sam let his head fall onto Dean's shoulder.

"It's okay, Sammy. It's okay," Dean murmured.

"M'not...a Win...Winchester..." Sam managed to choke out without crying.

"What? Of course you are. You're my brother."

"M'too...too weak...too scared."

"Sammy, just because you're scared doesn't mean you're not a Winchester. Honestly? I'm freaking scared right now. I'm sure Mary and Dad are scared too."

"Shoulda let Jason... kill me."

"You don't mean that. If he did, then you wouldn't be here now..."

"Exactly! Then... I wouldn't... be screwing your lives up... like this..." Sam coughed hard, his body shaking from cold, terror and shock.

"Sammy, you are the best thing that's ever happened to me. You're my brother. Even before I knew that, I still had the feeling that there was something different about you. I always knew something  
was special about you," Dean said, shaking him gently.

"I suck," was all Sam could think of to say.

Dean chuckled. Sam couldn't hold back any more, and just let the barriers down. The tears came flooding out, racing down his cheeks and cooling them even further in the cold night breeze. Dean wrapped his other arms around his little brother and hugged him close, knowing that even if Sam didn't want it, he needed it more than anything.

They sat there for a while, until Sam had cried himself out. But even once the tears had dried in the breeze, and Sam's shaking had lessened a little, the boys didn't move. They sat there, unmoving, until Sam's breathing became steady, and the only shaking was from cold and not fear or tears. Only then did Dean move, shifting slightly to stand up. He lifted his brother, which was no easy feat, and carried him inside. He took him to their bedroom, passing his parents along the way.

"He's okay now," Dean said as he walked by.

It was a lie, and all three of them knew it.


	6. Gotta Talk Sometime

**Yeah, another chapter! I managed to get this done during my holiday, plus homework and actually having fun! Although I ended up with gastro on the day we came back, I still had loads of fun for the time we were away and got to do loads of cool stuff! I love holidays, although now I have to catch up on school! Urgh. Anyway, here's the next chapter, hope you enjoy it! Lots of Dean angst here, thought I'd give Sam a break from it this time. Read, review and enjoy! Hugs!**

"Sam?"

Sam opened his eyes slowly, the events of the previous night coming back to him as he sat up. He looked to his left to see Dean leaning against the doorframe, watching him with careful eyes. Sam ducked his head, unsure. He remembered what he'd done last night. He remembered breaking down beside the Impala, leaning against Dean and crying his heart out.

_Dean must think I'm pathetic _Sam thought _Pathetic and weak. He risked his life to save me and spent all that time training me, and then everything collapses and I go so far backwards that he may as well not have saved me._

"We weren't sure if you wanted to go, after what happened last night, but Mary and Dad signed you up for that school..." Dean started, before trailing off towards the end.

Sam looked up. He'd almost completely forgotten about school.

"You don't have to go..."

"I want to," Sam said quietly, wondering when his voice had become so low and scared.

Dean nodded slowly, never taking his eyes off his brother. He wondered if Sam really was ready for this challenge. Returning to school was a big thing, and after the events of the past few days Dean hoped Sam would be able to handle it.

**/\/\**

Dean looked at Sam as the pair got out of the Impala. Dean had decided to drive Sam to school, hoping he could find out why Sam was avoiding his gaze, and trying his best not to speak to him. But the trip had revealed nothing, and now they were at the gates of the school, Sam ready to leave.  
Sam glanced back at his brother for a split second. The unspoken question was burning in Dean's eyes, and Sam felt compelled to answer.

"I'm fine. You can go home."

Sam walked away, leaving Dean watching the crowds of kids around the school yard, his brother disappearing into the building. He waited a moment, just looking around at the other kids. They reminded him of a time that seemed so long ago, when he was just a hunter, fighting the supernatural and then going to school the next day. Then everything had changed when he met Sam. The crowds of kids milling around and chatting, or showing off to their friends, held memories of when he'd met the boy who turned out to be his long-lost brother. It held memories of that day when he'd seen Sam first walk into that school yard, a scared, shy kid.

Dean got back into the car and started the engine. He paused for another moment, glancing once more at the school building, and the door Sam had disappeared through, before driving off.

**/\/\**

Sam wandered through the school halls, past rows of lockers and groups of chattering kids. There were almost invisible lines separating each group. Some girls in one place, some in another. The geeks down the hall avoiding the inevitable school bullies.

Sam kept his head down to avoid being recognised as a new kid. He could only see his feet and those of the others around him, and he couldn't stop himself in time before he crashed into someone. He stumbled back a pace and his head snapped up, an apology forming on his lips, anger rushing through his head. He'd only been here for less than five minutes and he'd probably already made himself an enemy.

The kid he'd bumped into was an average looking guy. He was a little shorter than Sam, but not by much. He had scruffy, shoulder length black hair, a fringe swept across his face and almost covering one of his green-blue eyes. He was wearing a baggy black t-shirt, jeans, sneakers and fingerless gloves.

Before Sam could get out his apology, the kid laughed. He pushed a strand of escaped hair over his ear and shifted the position of the books balanced precariously in his arms.

"Sorry mate," the kid said with a slight accent and a smile.

"Uh...yeah, sorry," Sam replied cautiously.

The kid held out one hand, the books tipping over further and barely balanced in his hand.

"The name's Damien," he said.

Sam hesitated before shaking Damien's hand.

"I'm Sam."

"You're new, right?"

"Yeah," Sam risked a small smile at the enthusiastic teenager. Damien responded with the same, only larger.

"You seem pretty cool," Damien said, patting Sam on the shoulder for a moment, grinning. Sam couldn't stop the smile that spread over his face – Damien's happiness and excitement was contagious.

**/\/\**

At lunch that day, Sam wandered out to the school yard alone. He looked around and spotted Damien across the yard with another boy. Damien saw him at almost the same time and waved. Sam hesitated only a moment before going over.

"Hey Sam, this is my friend, Kane."

Damien gestured to the boy with cropped brown hair similar to Dean's, with shattering ice blue eyes. He smiled and lifted his hand in a slight wave. Sam did the same.

"So where're you from, Sam?" Kane asked.

"Kansas. That's where I was born, but I've moved around so much since then I've lost count," Sam replied.

"I'm from California originally. Moved here about four years ago," Kane said.

Sam glanced at Damien, curious as to where his slight accent came from. Damien smirked and spoke.

"I was actually born in Australia. I only came here about a year ago."

"Wow, Australia?" Sam breathed, a little impressed.

He smiled. It was half way through the day already, and so far he hadn't been bashed, attacked, taunted or glared at, and he'd made two new friends. He'd been afraid school would be just like every other, never making friends and always hiding from the bullies of the school to avoid being bashed. But it seemed to be the opposite.

He wondered what Dean was doing.

**/\/\**

Dean drove around for an hour or so after dropping Sam off. He didn't know where he was going, or if he was even going anywhere at all. All he knew was that he had to find somewhere to go other than home. He didn't want to see his parents just at that moment. They'd want to know what had gone on last night out the front on the driveway, and they'd want to know what Sam had told him about his dreams. Dean didn't know the answers and the ones he did know, he didn't want to tell.

Eventually, he found himself idling outside a motel on the far side of town. He recognised it as the motel Bobby had said he was staying at. Dean sighed, and parked in the car park. He shut off the engine, plunging the car into silence. He sat in the Impala for a while, just staring out the windscreen and nothing else. Finally, he got out, and headed to Bobby's room.

He knocked on the door, and it only took a moment for it to open to reveal Bobby. He took one look at Dean, said nothing, and stepped aside. Dean gave him a quick glance as he walked in.

"What's going on?" Bobby asked.

Dean sighed, running a hand through his hair as he wondered whether coming here was a good idea. In the end, he decided against running out the door.

"Sam..."

Bobby didn't let Dean finish. Instead, he gestured for the teenager to sit down, then disappeared for a moment. He reappeared with two beers. Dean smiled faintly as he took one and opened it,  
taking a deep swallow.

"What's happened?" Bobby asked, sitting across from Dean with one eyebrow raised. He'd known him long enough to understand that Dean would never have come if it wasn't something important, or something he couldn't handle on his own.

"I don't know if you're right or not," Dean said quietly, so low Bobby almost didn't hear.

"About what?" Bobby already knew, but asked anyway.

"Hunting, and Sam knowing. I mean, I think there's something... something going on, and I don't know what to do," Dean kept his gaze down, knowing that Bobby would never tell his father about  
what they talked about. Bobby was almost like a second father to him, one he could trust to keep his secrets and be the one to talk to when things got so hard that he couldn't deal with them alone or with his father. Bobby was the only one he trusted enough to talk to about Sam.

Bobby waited for Dean to explain, letting him get whatever it was he needed to tell off his chest.

"Sam's been having really weird nightmares. Scary ones. He keeps fighting and talking all the way through. He told me last night that they were about Jason."

Bobby nodded, remembering what John had told him about Jason and how the bastard had abused Sam for three years and almost killed him.

"I don't know what to do. There's signs. Cold spots, the nightmares. I even checked around Sam's bed with the EMF and it's everywhere."

"You think a ghost is haunting Sam."

Dean nodded slowly. He breathed in deeply before speaking again.

"Yeah. Jason's ghost."

"You didn't burn the body?" Bobby looked surprised. Dean glared at him, connecting eyes for the first time since sitting down.

"We got out of there as quickly as we could. Dad wanted to go back and burn it, but I said no. I told him that Sam would be better off if we kept moving away from the place. I didn't think he was going to find some way to haunt Sam from the other side of the country!"

Bobby shook his head.

"That may be the case, but it ain't why you're really here. What's going on?"

Dean hesitated. He wasn't really sure if he wanted to say what he had on his mind. Once something was said, it couldn't be unsaid.

"I can't tell Dad, because...he'll think I'm...weak..."

"John would never think you were weak. You're his son. No matter what, he's gonna love you. You know that, right?" Bobby said gruffly, but Dean could hear the slight worry behind his voice.

Dean glanced at Bobby for a second. They locked eyes, and Bobby saw the fear behind the exterior of indifference.

"I'm scared, Bobby. I'm scared that Sam's gonna get hurt by this ghost. I'm scared that he's hiding everything away from me and not letting me help him. I'm scared that he's gonna find out about the  
hunting stuff. I'm just scared, Bobby, and I don't know what to do."

Bobby sighed quietly under his breath and nodded slowly. There was a long pause, where the two just looked at each other, one with desperation in his eyes and the other with hidden worry and trying to reach out to help.

"If you weren't scared, you wouldn't be human, Dean. Everyone gets scared, even Winchesters. And to tell you the truth, I think everyone's scared for Sam. I barely even know the kid, and I'm worried that something's gonna happen to him."

Bobby never took his eyes of Dean as he spoke, watching his reaction. Dean just slumped down into the chair, seeming as if he couldn't care about anything anymore, as if it were all just too hard, and he didn't want to care about it.

"I don't want to lose him. Not again. I only just found him," Dean said, so quietly that Bobby almost didn't hear him.

"Then you have to hold on to him. Don't let him slip away from you. Don't let him get away. Do what you have to do, Dean. You know what that is."

"I can't tell him," Dean whispered.

"Your father tried to keep the past from you. Your mother tried to keep that past from Sam. Look how that worked out. If you don't want to lose Sam, like your father's losing you, then don't do what your father did. Don't lie to him anymore."

Bobby's words stung, but only because they were true. Dean knew he was being harsh on his father. Thirteen years was a long time to be lied to, but John was obviously doing everything he could to win his son's trust back. Dean wanted to tell his father that everything was alright between them, that everything was fine, but he just couldn't bring himself to do it. And, Dean realised, he was doing to Sam what his father had done to him. He'd lied, and he was prepared to keep lying for as long as it took to keep the one he cared about most safe.

Dean blinked, the stinging feeling of tears behind his eyes trying to force their way to the surface irritating him. He stood up, knowing he had to get out of there before he completely broke down. He ran for the door, mumbling something to Bobby about being sorry and having to go. Bobby didn't try to follow, only watched as the teenager ran from the room. He heard an engine revving, tyres squealing. The sounds faded away into silence.

**/\/\**

Dean only drove a street away before he had to stop. He couldn't see anymore behind the budding tears in his eyes. He pulled into a parking space on the side of the road, nearly slamming into the car in front of him. He slumped forward against the steering wheel, choking back tears.

Bobby was right. He had to tell Sam the truth. If he ever found out, Sam would be devastated. Not because he would know that monsters existed, but that Dean had lied to him. After they had stuck together in their distrust of their parents, Sam would be horrified to know that Dean had done exactly the same thing. Dean coughed. How could he do that to his little brother? The one he'd sworn to protect?

Dean drew in a deep breath, making up his mind. When Sam came home, he was going to tell him. He was going to reveal the truth. Whatever damage that did to their bond was something Dean would have to deal with later.

At that moment, all he wanted to do was make sure that Sam would never get hurt again.


	7. Secrets, Lies and Oh Yeah, Jason

**So, here's the next chapter for ya! Hope you all enjoy it XD **

As the final bell rang out loud and clear, Sam made his way out of the school building, past the other kids forcing their way out of school and into the freedoms of the streets beyond the gates. He glanced over to see Damien beside him. They'd just had the last class together. Damien smiled – his smile barely seemed to leave his face. It was like he was eternally happy.

"So where are you headed?" Damien asked as they stopped at the school gates.

"I'm getting picked up. You?"

"Walking home. I only live a few minutes away. I guess I'll see you tomorrow then?" Damien replied, tilting his head slightly in curiosity.

"Yeah. See ya."

Damien disappeared down the street, and Sam sighed, a smile creeping onto his face. For the first time in over three years, he'd had a good day at school. Better than good even, it was great. He had friends, he had no enemies, and he hadn't been bashed or even threatened!

The honk of a horn startled him out of his thoughts. He saw the Impala across the street, John in the driver's seat. Sam frowned, crossing the street and sliding into the passenger side.

"I thought Dean was picking me up," Sam asked as he clicked his seatbelt into place.

"I'm just as capable," John said, and Sam ducked his head. He hadn't meant to upset his father. He'd merely been curious as to why Dean wasn't there. He was surprised. Dean hardly let him out of his sight.

_Maybe he's actually living up to his promise of letting me live my own life a little more_ Sam thought as the Impala roared into life and pulled out onto the street.

**/\/\**

At home, Dean heard the sound of the Impala driving into the driveway, and hung his head. He sighed, running a hand over his face as he thought about what he was going to do. Sam was going to be devastated. Dean only hoped that Sam could eventually forgive him for hiding it from him in the first place.

The door opened and shut, and Dean heard footsteps racing through the house, slower ones behind them. He looked up as Sam burst into their shared room.

"Hey Dean," Sam said brightly. When he saw the look on his brother's face, his smile faded and he looked worried.

"You okay?"

Dean took a deep breath, steeling himself for what he was going to say. He wasn't about to back out of it now. He couldn't, for both Sam's and his sakes.

"What's up?" Sam asked, sitting down next to him on the bed.

Dean glanced at him for a split second. It was all he could manage, because Sam's puppy dog eyes were turned on him in full force. In that split second, everything he'd told himself before went out the window.

He couldn't do it. He couldn't hurt Sam like that. Not when he'd been hurt so badly before. Even if Sam forgave him, he would always feel guilty for burdening his little brother with the knowledge of monsters that shouldn't exist.

"Nothing. M'just tired," Dean said quietly, hating himself even more with every word that passed his lips. He was a coward. A gutless, scared and desperate coward.

Sam didn't appear convinced. He didn't move, and neither did Dean for a good few minutes. Finally, Dean spoke again, his voice still low and quiet.

"How was school?"

Sam's face brightened again. Dean couldn't hold back the wave of guilt that washed over him as he saw how happy Sam was. He looked as if nothing bad had ever happened to him, and never would. How could he then tell Sam that bad stuff would always happen if he stayed with them?

"It was actually great! I haven't had a day like that in over three years," Sam said, speaking quickly as he mentioned the last three years. Obviously he wasn't fully over what he'd been through, and  
Dean wondered if he ever would be. If either of them would be.

"I made two friends, they're awesome," Sam smiled "Damien and Kane. Damien's actually from Australia, isn't that cool? Anyway, I didn't get bashed or threatened, or anything!"

Dean managed a tiny smile at his brother's happiness, the black hole of guilt inside him eating away more and more. There was no way he could ever destroy Sam's happiness or his innocence. Sam was lucky he still had any innocence left after his three-year ordeal. Dean had lost his a long time ago, and he knew he couldn't do that same thing to his little brother.

Suddenly, the lights started to flicker. Dean's stomach churned in horror and his heart sank. Sam looked up, shrugging.

"Guess the wiring isn't great... Dean, you okay?"

Sam was looking at him strangely, and Dean realised his mouth was hanging slightly open, and he must have looked utterly scared out of his mind. He shook his head.

"I'm fine."

"Dean, you're obviously not fine. What's going on?"

Sam's tone stabbed at Dean's heart and he closed his eyes. He had to do it. But he couldn't. Confusion whirled in his mind, twisting everything he thought he knew and turning it upside down and inside out. Everything was supposed to be alright now that Jason was dead and the Winchester family was back together. But it looked like there were a few more challenges to overcome before anything like that happy ending could come to the surface.

"I just need to sleep. I'm okay, really."

Sam swallowed, worried. He knew Dean would just think he was worried because they were brothers, and brothers were supposed to look after each other. But that wasn't why he was afraid. He was scared because he remembered what Jason had said in the last dream.

It was the one thing he was still afraid of. An irrational fear, he knew, but one that scared him to the core nonetheless. When he'd been in hospital, he'd had dark and morbid nightmares of Dean being killed by Jason. They had all been his fault. Sam knew that if he had never become friends with Dean, then his brother would never have been in danger. But he also knew that he would still be living in hell.

Jason still taunted him, still haunted him in his dreams, and now he was threatening to do the one thing that had Sam frozen in terror.

**/\/\**

Dean avoided Sam for the rest of the day. He couldn't face the puppy eye assault again. Every time he saw Sam, he got the hurt look that wanted to know why his brother was walking away from him all the time. Dean kept his eyes to the ground, stayed in his room, and kept as far away from Sam as he could. He was trying to deal with the fact that not only had he let Sam down, but Bobby and himself as well.

"I'm such a fucking coward!" he muttered angrily to himself, moving to punch the wall. He stopped himself just in time. He knew Sam would come running, and then he would have no chance as hiding  
the truth from him. He flopped back down on the bed, letting out a deep breath. He didn't hear the door open or Sam walk in.

"Dean?"

Dean sat upright and saw Sam in the doorway. The look on his face sent spikes of guilt and self-loathing racing through his heart. He looked so hurt and guilty himself.

"What's wrong?" Dean asked, beating Sam to it.

"I thought maybe you could tell me," Sam whispered quietly.

Dean frowned, confused. Sam wandered over and sat on the bed next to his older brother, staring at the floor. Dean waited for his brother to say something, wondering what Sam was worried about.

"Did I do something?"

Dean was startled by Sam's question, "What?"

"Did I do something to piss you off?" Sam clarified "Or something to make you angry? I did, didn't I? I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. Whatever I did, I didn't mean to do it. I'm sorry..."

Dean stopped his little brother's rambling with a hand on his shoulder. He looked at Sam with surprise, shock and more guilt weighing down on him.

"Sammy, of course not. You didn't do anything."

"I must have. I must have done something, otherwise you wouldn't be angry with me."

"I'm not angry with you," Dean said, puzzled.

Sam kept his eyes to the floor as he spoke, "But... you're avoiding me. You've got that look on your face when you're really angry but you have to keep it inside. Whenever you see me you get that look and walk away."

Dean's heart plummeted. He hugged his little brother. Sam didn't move, just kept staring at the ground and fiddling with his hands.

"Sam, I'm not angry at you. I promise. I'm just... trying to deal with something at the minute."

Sam finally looked up as Dean released his hold on him, "What is it?"

Dean sighed, the guilt rushing over him again in a fresh tidal wave of emotion, "It's nothing really important."

"You can tell me anything. You know you can. That's what we agreed, right? We can tell each other anything."

Dean nodded, remembering the conversation they'd had a long time ago. Sam had been having nightmares, and he'd hidden them from everyone. Dean had eventually found out. The pair had made the pact that they would always be able to tell each other anything without the other becoming angry, worried or hurt.

Before he could reply, there was a knock at the door. John poked his head in the room.

"Time for bed, boys," he said with a small smile. The pair nodded, Dean both relieved and frustrated.

"We'll talk about this tomorrow, okay?" Dean said to Sam as their father disappeared. Sam nodded.

**/\/\**

Sam tried his best not to sleep that night. He lay awake, staring at the ceiling, listening to the soft breathing of his older brother. He figured that if he wasn't asleep, Jason couldn't hurt Dean. He knew it was stupid – Jason was only a dream now, he couldn't hurt anyone – but he didn't want to take the chance. The silence around him, broken only by the shifting of Dean as he slept, soon lulled Sam into sleep, despite his intentions.

"Sammy, Sammy, Sammy!"

Sam opened his eyes to the taunting call he recognised so well. He saw Jason across from him, in the same room from the previous dreams. The blood on the walls still looked fresh, dripping down to the carpet where it joined pools already there. Jason was leaning against a wall, arms crossed, a knowing smirk on his face. Sam glared.

"I've been waiting. So rude of you to keep me waiting," Jason said.

"Why can't you just leave me alone?"

Jason pushed himself off the wall. He paused to look at his hands, covered with blood. Shrugging, he wiped it off on his shirt, staining the white material. He walked over to Sam, stopping a few paces away.

"Because, Sam, you are the one thing that I have always hated with a passion. You and Dean. You two little brats fucked up my life, and I'm going to make you pay for it."

Jason raised his hand, and Sam ducked a little in a conditioned reaction. Jason laughed.

"Not yet. Just a moment."

Sam watched as Jason waves his hand just a little. It was barely a movement. But Sam saw it, and he saw what happened next. His stomach flipped with horror, and his heart started racing at a hundred miles an hour.

**/\/\**

Dean tossed in his sleep, vaguely hearing muttering from the background. He wasn't sure if he was awake or asleep, but he figured that since he was asking himself the question, he was relatively awake. He groaned, rolling onto his back. Why was it so hard to get proper sleep?

The darkness behind his eyelids deepened, and Dean twisted his head in surprise. He could hear voices around him, and he opened his eyes at the sound of a chilling, familiar voice.

"It worked," Jason smirked, obviously pleased with himself. Behind him, Dean saw Sam, watching on with horror in his eyes. Dean scrambled to his feet, his stomach staying on the ground. He'd been  
right. Jason was back, and he hadn't done anything about it. He felt sick, but he glared at Jason with all the hatred he could find in himself. Jason just chuckled.

"Now that I have the pair of you, I can finally finish what I started."

Dean saw Jason move towards Sam, pulling something from his jacket pocket. He raced towards his brother as he recognised the glint of wire.

"Fuck you!" Dean yelled, jumping on Jason's back.

The older man twisted violently, sending Dean flying off before he could get a proper grip. He crashed into the wall, slightly winded. He tried to get to his feet as Jason grabbed Sam by the hair. The teenager struggled, punching and swearing and fighting back like a true Winchester. Jason hurled Sam to the floor, a sickening crack echoing as his head slammed against the floor.

"No!" Dean cried, staggering to his feet as Sam whimpered, his eyes screwed up in pain.

Jason spun and backhanded Dean. The younger stumbled back, but moved forward again to attack. In the background, Sam moaned in pain and tried to sit up, a hand to his head. Dean lunged, grabbing Jason and punching him in the gut. Jason grunted, almost doubling over. Dean rammed his knee up into Jason's face, sending the man to the ground. He didn't back down though; he kicked Jason hard in the head, before dropping to his knees to wrap his hands around the man's throat.

Jason jerked, trying to push Dean off. The younger held on, pressing harder and harder.

"I'm not going to let you hurt Sam again," Dean growled savagely.

Behind him, there was a small choking cry. Dean looked away for a moment to see Sam against the wall, blood running from a wound on his head. In that moment, Jason swung upwards and trapped Dean's head between his feet. Dean was thrown to the ground and pinned. Jason laughed.

"I'm going to enjoy this."

**Oh noes, cliffhanger! Heh, the next chapter should be up soon. School holidays are coming up, and I'll have more time on my hands. Please, read and review! Hugs to you all!**


	8. Everything's Breaking, I Can't Stop It

**Heh, this is pretty violent... Lots of bashing up, emotional torment, swearing, yelling, etc. Anyway, hope you enjoy! Please, read and review! Thanks muchly, hugs!**

John awoke suddenly. He wasn't sure what woke him; the house seemed to be silent. He sat up, listening carefully for the slightest sound. In the bed opposite him, he saw Mary sit up slowly, brushing away hair from her face, watching him curiously with sleep-heavy eyes.

"Wha..." she started, but John stopped her with a raised hand as he heard something.

It was faint, but John heard the small bump. Then the low moan that echoed through the still house, breaking the silence. John and Mary stared at each other for the briefest moment, before scrambling to get out of bed and rush to the boys' room.

John got there first. He opened the door quietly, hoping there was nothing wrong. But in his heart, he had the sense that there was something terribly, horribly wrong going on. Once inside, he saw the sight that had his heart skipping a beat.

Dean was twisting and turning, fighting like a wildcat. Punching, kicking, he was doing everything he could to fight off his invisible attacker. He was choking and coughing as he breathed, apparently being strangled. Still, he fought as hard as he could, never letting up despite the lack of oxygen he was getting.

On the other side of the room lay Sam, almost still. He was whimpering, stifling sobs as he held one hand pressed against the side of his head. Mary was by his side instantly, looking at his head. She gasped as she pulled away his hand. John paled as he saw the blood on Sam's hand and head, still running and fresh.

"What the hell is going on?" John muttered as he moved to check on Dean. He felt around his boy's neck, but there was nothing there. There was nothing he could do to stop his son choking to death. All the while, Dean continued to struggle, swearing and battling his opponent.

"Both of them?" Mary asked, her voice on the verge of breaking. John glanced at her. He knew he must look helpless, because it was the only emotion he could feel at that moment. There was nothing else in him.

"I'm gonna hunt down whatever's doing this," John swore, turning back to Dean "I'm gonna fucking kill it."

**/\/\**

Sam watched in horror as Jason took advantage of Dean's distraction and pinned him to the floor. He pressed his foot around Dean's neck, cutting off most of his air supply. The teenager fought back hard, never giving up in true Winchester style. Jason just laughed.

"Dean!" Sam tried to call again, but his voice failed him and broke off before he could finish. The pain racing through his head disorientated him, making his head spin. He tried to stand, but fell back  
down as dizziness took over.

Jason let go of Dean's neck and kicked him in the gut. Dean rolled with a grunt, then moved to stand. But Jason was quicker, and pinned the teenager down again. He grabbed the wire from where he'd dropped it, and used it to bind Dean's hands together behind his back. It took a moment; Dean didn't let up in his fight to escape. But eventually Jason won, and Dean was bound hand and foot. He shouted abuse at the older man as he moved over towards Sam.

"You bastard! I'm gonna kill you! I'm gonna hunt you down and burn your rotting corpse to Hell!"

Jason took no notice. He grabbed Sam, who struggled feebly, his brain feeling like it was whirling around like a hurricane. Jason dragged Sam over to Dean, dropping him a few paces away. Dean glared, and there was so much hatred in his eyes. All the hatred and anger he could find within himself was directed at Jason in that one aimed gaze.

Jason walked over and knelt in front of Dean, out of reach of the teenager in case he made an attempt to attack. He smirked, which only pissed Dean off further, sending him closer to the edge of losing control.

"You saved Sam once before. But here, you can't save him. Here, I make the rules. This is my domain. You can try all you like, Dean, but whatever you do, I'm going to win."

Dean spat at Jason and growled, "If anyone is going to win today, it's me. I'm gonna torch your fucking body and I'm gonna watch you burn. I hope you burn in hell, you gutless coward."

Jason wiped the spit away from his face, and didn't lose his temper. Instead, he stood up and walked over to Sam. He was starting to regain some stability, although the blood loss was slowly taking away his strength. He twisted as Jason grabbed him by the hair.

"Hey, Sammy boy," Jason murmured quietly in Sam's ear. Sam shivered as Jason's breath fluttered down his back and in his ear, and he felt like throwing up. Jason twisted his hand, sending jolts of pain through Sam's head as his hair was pulled further. Sam bit back a groan. He wasn't going to let Jason win. He wasn't going to let Dean down. And he wasn't going to give Jason the satisfaction of watching him beg for mercy like he'd done so many times before. Thos days were over; now he was stronger, and he was going to fight the bastard to the last breath.

"Remember why your mum married me?" Jason asked softly. Sam didn't answer, didn't make any attempt to reply. He simply stayed as still as he could to keep the pain to a minimum for now.

"She married me 'cause your real daddy didn't want you. Remember? He left you. He ran away from you. He didn't want you, he wanted Dean. He wanted a strong kid, not a pathetic weakling like you. You're a disappointment to him, Sammy."

"Don't listen to him!" Dean yelled angrily, fighting against his restraints "Dad loves you, you know that! Don't listen!"

Jason continued, "Dean doesn't either, you know. He was just doing his job when he saved you. He didn't care, he just wanted to make sure the job was done."

Dean felt sick as he realised what Jason was about to do. He screamed at himself for not telling Sam before. For lying. For being such a crap big brother.

Sam stared at him in shock, and Dean realised he hadn't just been screaming to himself.

"What.." Sam started, his voice a whisper.

"I'm sorry, Sammy. I'm so sorry. So fucking sorry," Dean rambled, knowing that everything he'd worked so hard to protect was coming crashing down around him and there was nothing he could do now to save it, only look back and berate himself for all the mistakes he'd made. And he'd made plenty.

"You see?" Jason smirked, glancing at Dean for a second before returning his gaze to Sam "He's been lying to you every since he met you."

"Dean?" Sam's voice tore a hole in Dean's very being, and Dean didn't try to stop the tears falling anymore.

"I was gonna tell you, Sammy. I swear to God I was. I didn't... I didn't want..."

"He didn't want to let you in on the secret," Jason supplied, and Dean swore.

"No!"

"He didn't want you in on it, because it's his secret. His, and John's, and your mother's. They kept it a secret from you because they didn't want you involved. Because they don't love you," Jason continued, giving Dean a malice-contorted grin.

"Because we do love you!" Dean said desperately, wanting with everything he was for Sam to believe him. Because he wouldn't be able to live with himself anymore if Sam believed Jason over his brother.

Sam's eyes widened in absolute horror, still confused about what exactly the secret was. Jason leant closer to Sam's ear and whispered.

"Dean hunts monsters, Sammy boy. He hunts them down and kills them. All types of monsters. Werewolves, vampires, ghosts, demons, witches – the lot. All of them do it. And guess what? So does Mummy. I figured that out not long ago. That's where she was disappearing to. She left you to me to go hunt monsters. Isn't that ironic?"

Sam stared at Dean, willing it to be a lie. Hoping that Jason was messing with his head and Dean would say it was all okay. He needed it to be all okay. Dean hung his head in shame, and Sam's world cracked.

"No. You didn't...it's not..." Sam barely managed to choke out a few words as everything he'd done since escaping Jason, everything he'd learned, shattered into a million tiny pieces too small to put back together.

"I'm so sorry, Sammy," Dean muttered quietly, tears still falling as Jason's laugh echoed around them.

**/\/\**

John and Mary stared at each other, absolutely shocked. They'd heard every word, seen the effect of every blow, watched every tear fall. And now the truth was out, and Sam was devastated. John looked down at Dean. His son was crying. Dean never cried. He hadn't cried since he was six. At least, not in John's presence. But here he was, tears streaming down his face as he told Sam the truth.

"Oh my God," Mary mumbled, stunned. She held onto John, and he held onto her, as they watched on helplessly at their boys struggling with utter betrayal.

**/\/\**

Jason eventually stopped laughing, and looked between Dean and Sam for a moment.

"I love this. I really do. Now, I think I'm gonna hurt you a little more. Enough of this emotional torture."

Dean barely saw the movement, it was so fast. One moment, Jason was holding Sam's head up by the hair. The next, he was slamming Sam's face into the ground repeatedly, Sam crying out in agony.

"Sammy!" Dean screamed, the guilt, hatred, fear and anger inside him twisting to form a heavy knot, weighing him down. He fought harder, nearly tearing his wrists apart as the wire dug into his skin. He didn't feel it though. He didn't feel anything but the utter rage and guilt ripping his soul in half.

And then everything changed in a split second.

Dean watched as Jason stopped suddenly, looked around, and growled in anger. He let go of Sam, letting the boy slump to the floor, unconscious, blood flowing from the wounds across his head. Dean saw Jason start to flicker. The man snarled, before disappearing completely. The room around the boys swirled into a dizzying array of colour, red shining through as a spreading stain. Then everything went black, and Dean tasted salt.

Dean opened his eyes suddenly, his body aching like he'd just been on the losing end of a fight with a werewolf. He saw his father above him, watching with worried eyes. His mouth felt full, and all he could taste was salt. He spat out the white grains, coughing as blood tinted them red.

"Dean, you okay?" John asked, helping his son sit up.

"I'm fine," Dean replied shakily, every part of him trembling. His arms, his legs, his entire body, his voice. Everything shook. He tried to look over his father's shoulder to see Sam. John grabbed him by the shoulders to stop him.

"Is Sam okay?" Dean asked, biting his lip at how scared he sounded.

John sighed, and moved aside to let Dean see. He held back a gasp at what he saw. Sam was lying still on his bed, Mary beside him trying to wake him. Blood stained his pillow, bleeding from wounds across his forehead, the side of his head, and his nose. He was barely breathing, and looked almost dead. Dean slumped back against the wall behind his bed, unable to hold himself up anymore. His strength seemed to fly away, and he was left with nothing but a growing hole of guilt.

What had he done?


	9. Nothing I Can Do Now

**Angst-fest alert! Lol, everyone seems to be feelig the angst lately :P Enjoy the latest chapter! **

John sat with Dean in the kitchen while Mary cleaned Sam up and made sure he was okay. Dean was almost staring at the table with his arms folded tightly across his chest. John was trying to coax him to relax so he could check over him and make sure there was nothing wrong with him.

"Come on, Dean," John said, exasperated.

Dean didn't respond. He stayed still, unmoving. John sighed and leaned back against the wall and watched his son for a moment, hoping both his boys were okay. At last, Dean slowly twisted his head to face his father. John's heart sank as he saw the tears shining in his eyes, banned from ever falling by Dean's strength.

"I hurt him."

"You're not the one who bashed him up, Dean," John said "That son of a bitch did that. It wasn't your fault."

"I didn't tell him," Dean said quietly, hanging his head "He found out from that bastard. I didn't get to tell him. Now he knows I lied."

John knelt down beside his son. Dean was again staring at the table, in a state of shock. John put a hand on his shoulder comfortingly, but Dean didn't move. He didn't respond at all, not even flinching. John was about to tell Dean that there was nothing he could have done, when Mary entered. Her hands were covered in blood, and the moment Dean saw her, his eyes widened in horror.

Mary quickly explained before Dean had a heart attack, "He's fine. He might have a concussion for all I know, but he looks okay. The wounds are all bandaged up and he's asleep now. He didn't wake up at all."

"Because Jason smashed his head against the floor a couple times," Dean muttered darkly as Mary went to wash her hands of her son's blood.

"Dean," she said softly, but he interrupted her.

"Don't. It's not okay. It's not fine. It's not gonna be. It was my fault, and there was something I could have done. I could have told him earlier. I could have not lied to him."

Mary turned to him, drying her hands. She glared at him angrily, doing an impressive job of holding back her temper.

"Dean Winchester, you can just shut up."

Dean stared at her in shock, as did John. Mary folded her arms, looking pointedly at her elder son.

"What's done is done. There's nothing we can do about the past. We need to get over what's just happened and figure out how we're going to stop it from happening again. Sitting around feeling sorry for ourselves isn't going to help the situation. We have to get in there and solve this problem before it comes back and does something worse."

Dean and John were silent, both stunned at her outburst. Mary stared, waiting for a reply from either of them. At last, John nodded.

"She's right, Dean. We have to do something about Jason. And we have to do it now."

"Of course I'm right," Mary rolled her eyes "Aren't I always?"

Dean sighed quietly and looked from his mother to his father. He didn't speak for a moment, and just glanced at them. Eventually, he replied.

"I guess so."

Saying it didn't help with the gnawing guilt he still felt, and Dean knew it never would.

**/\/\**

John put down the phone and looked at Mary and Dean.

"Bobby said he's coming."

Mary nodded, but Dean didn't really acknowledge that his father had spoken. He just looked towards Sam's door, then back at his parents. John and Mary exchanged glances, and the latter shrugged.

"He's still asleep."

Dean was gone before the words were out of his mouth. Mary gave John a sad, defeated look, and sat down. John moved to sit next to her.

"It's not fair," she mumbled through her hands.

John spoke quietly, "I know. But we're gonna get the bastard, aren't we?"

"Don't patronise me, John."

John chuckled despite the situation. Mary was still most definitely Mary, and she was still okay. For the most part, he figured.

"Have you ever seen anything like this before?" she asked, looking at him from behind her hands and out of the corner of her eye.

"No. I have seen ghosts possess people, but never in another's dreams. But I wouldn't be surprised if it were possible. There's so much weird stuff out there nothing would surprise me anymore."

Mary sat back and stared at John with a raised eyebrow.

"You were pretty damn surprised when you realised I was in town. When you realise Sam was being abused by that creep."

"So were you," John defended.

"I'm not the one who said I wouldn't be surprised at anything anymore."

"You know what I meant."

Mary stood up, putting her hands on her hips and staring down at John with the intensity of an exploding sun.

"How do I know anything anymore? Everything has changed in my life in the past six months. So much has happened lately, I'm not entirely sure what the hell is going on anymore."

John rose to his feet, equalling Mary's anger and then some, "You're not the only one! Do you think everything has been easy for me? I raised a son alone as a hunter, then found out my other son is being abused right under your nose! Life hasn't exactly been a walk in the park!"

"Maybe you should have just left it all behind! I did! Sam had a good life, and Dean could have had that too!"

John swore, "You went back! You hypocrite, you went back to hunting!"

"And that's when everything went downhill!" Mary yelled "That's when it all started! Hunting isn't the sort of life kids should have!"

"I didn't have a choice. I couldn't back down from hunting when I knew what was out there. When I knew it could easily happen to Dean. I couldn't let him grow up in the dark," John growled.

A knock at the door interrupted them. John and Mary stared at each other, each waiting for the other to answer it. Neither wanted to back down to show weakness to the other. There was another knock.

"If you don't open this door, I'm gonna break the damn thing down!" Bobby yelled from outside.

John stalked towards the door, leaving Mary alone in the kitchen.

**/\/\**

"Sammy?" Dean called quietly, even though he knew his brother wouldn't be able to reply. He looked around the door with hesitation, hoping Sam would look a little better than the last time he'd seen him. The last time, he'd been covered in blood and looking almost dead.

Lying on the bed was his little brother, covered with a blanket. Dean could see the traces of salt still in his mouth to safeguard against another attack from Jason. The wounds on Sam's head had been patched up, and his nose had stopped bleeding. He was still, his only movement being his chest rising up and down slowly as he breathed. Dean swallowed. It looked so familiar. It looked almost exactly like when Sam had been in hospital after Jason had tried to kill him.

Dean moved to Sam's bedside, the bed itself still coated in his little brother's drying blood. Dean sat down next to him and brushed a curl of hair from Sam's face. He looked so peaceful, despite the fact he'd just suffered yet again at the hands of his supposedly dead stepfather. Under his eyelids, Sam's eyes flickered from side to side, around and around, dreaming of something. Dean's only comfort was that he knew it wasn't Jason again. He hoped Jason wouldn't return – that they would be able to find a solution. He knew Sam couldn't deal with it again. Sam had broken once when he'd cried his eyes out in the driveway. He'd been standing on the edge of that cliff again since then, and Dean hoped that he wouldn't fall again. Because if he did, Dean wasn't sure if he could catch him again.

Dean took his brother's hand in his, and sat beside him, staring at him. There was nothing else he could do.

**/\/\**

"What exactly is going on?" Bobby asked, glancing between John and Mary "And what's going on between you two?"

John sighed, "Sam's been having nightmares about Jason. It's just they're not nightmares. He's haunting Sam through his dreams."

Bobby looked thoughtful, "I've heard of something like that happening. Never seen it though."

"We managed to get Sam and Dean out of the last one with salt, but..." Mary started.

Bobby stared at her, utterly confused now, "Dean?"

"Yeah. Jason managed to drag Dean into Sam's nightmare. And apparently, he can seriously hurt them there."

Bobby shook his head. He leaned against the wall and glanced between the two Winchesters. Haunting in dreams was something he'd always heard of as a rumour in the hunting world, but he'd never seen it. He'd wondered if it were possible and now he was faced with the truth. It was worse than he'd thought.

"I'm going to Forreston to burn this fucker," Mary said suddenly, venom in her tone. John and Bobby looked to her, John with surprise.

"What? We never agreed on that."

"I don't care. I'm going, and I'm gonna find this bastard. He's not going to hurt either of the boys again," Mary said with conviction, her tone daring either John or Bobby to disagree. Neither were brave enough to say anything when she looked like that.

"I wanna go too."

The three turned to see Dean in the doorway to the kitchen, leaning against the doorframe as if he couldn't be bothered to stand on his own – or he didn't have the strength. Mary shook her head and started to protest, but Dean cut her off.

"I'm going. Jason hurt Sam after I told him he was gone for good. I have to make this right."

Mary looked helplessly to John. He shrugged, "I'm not stopping him."

Mary huffed and folded her arms, "Fine."

Bobby glanced at John, "I'll stay with you. If Jason comes back, you're gonna need all the help you can get to make sure Sam isn't affected again."

John nodded, grateful for the help. Dean glanced back into the corridor and in the general direction of Sam's room. Then he looked back, his face hardening into determination and losing its worried emotion.

"It'll take about three days to get there," Mary said "Two if we drive through the night and don't stop."

"Let's go now then," Dean said "The sooner we get rid of this, the better."

Before anyone could object, Dean was gone. Mary sighed, and headed off as well, leaving Bobby and John in the kitchen. The two men looked at each other for a moment in silence, both wondering and hoping the same thing – that Dean and Mary would be successful, and this nightmare would soon be over.

**/\/\**

John watched from the open doorway as Mary, dressed in jeans, boots and a long-sleeved shirt, took the driver's side of the Impala, and Dean slid into shotgun. Neither looked back as Mary revved the engine and shot out of the driveway, leaving behind the house in the hope that they would solve the problem and come back victorious in the war against Jason.

John sighed as the rear lights of the Impala vanished into the lightening night. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the sun starting to rise over the horizon, signalling a new day. Behind him, Bobby walked out and stood next to his long-time friend. Neither spoke as they watched the sun rise – something they hadn't done in years.

"Is this ever going to end?" John asked quietly.

"They're going to burn the guy, John," Bobby said "Have a little faith in your son; he can do it."

"I should have done it before I shouldn't be letting Dean fix my mistake..."

Bobby stopped him, "What's done is done. All you can do now is look after Sam and wait."

John sighed. He was right, as usual. There was nothing to do but wait.


	10. Waking Up To Revelations

**Phew, it's been ages since the last update! Sorry everyone! I kept getting distracted with other stories, and a couple of trades I was doing on deviantART. Anyway, it's finally here!**

**BTW, thought I'd mention that I don't have anyone read these over before I post. Any and all mistakes are mine. And I'll take the opportunity to remind you that unfortunately, I don't own Supernatural. If I did, who knows? Maybe this would be a real plotline... XD LOL**

**Enjoy the latest chapter! Read and review, I love them!**

Two days passed without a word from Mary or Dean. John and Bobby waited, the former anxiously, for any news whatsoever. The waiting was sending him crazy, especially as Sam didn't wake up. He stayed unconscious, his only movement his breathing. John sat by his side for most of the day, talking to him. Mostly he talked about nothing in particular.

"John?"

John turned to see Bobby in the doorway, watching him. He let go of his son's hand and stood up.

"Yeah?"

"I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

John scoffed sarcastically, shrugging his shoulders, "I'm fine. I mean, my kids hate me and are the target of a psychotic ghost, but other than that, I'm just fine."

Bobby sighed, "Don't. You need to step back and realise what's going on."

"I know exactly what's going on."

"Dean and Sam don't hate you, for a start. You know that."

John sighed, resting his weight against the wall and glancing at Sam for a moment. He didn't speak. Bobby waited until he was ready. It was a few minutes before John sighed again, ran a hand through his hair, and spoke.

"I lied to Dean, and because of that Sam nearly died. You know how protective Dean is of him. In his eyes, I'm the one who separated them and then almost caused Sam's death. And Sam's found out  
that his true father gave him up when he was a baby and took Dean instead. If he doesn't hate me, then I'm honestly surprised."

Bobby opened his mouth to say something. John stopped him with a slight wave of his hand. He moved away from the wall and towards his old friend. They stood, looking each other in the eye.

"Then be surprised."

John and Bobby jumped at the third voice, and they looked to Sam. He was rubbing his eyes, trying to sit up. John rushed to his side, helping him.

"Sam, are you..."

Sam cut his father off, "I don't hate you. I didn't think you thought that."

John was silent as he looked down. Sam stared at him, brushing hair out of his face. He winced for a moment as he touched the bandaged wounds.

"You made mistakes, but that's what they are. Mistakes. And I'm still here, so you haven't done that bad a job. Jason told me that you hated me, and that's why you gave me up. He said that you wanted Dean and not me, and I was a disappointment to you."

"I don't..."

"I know. And I never did hate you. Maybe a little bit, when I found out I actually had a dad. I forgave you for that a long time ago, though."

John stared at his son. Sam was so mature, acting far beyond his years. Here he was, _forgiving him._ For everything he'd done, he was being forgiven. John smiled and hugged his son. Sam hugged him back.

In the doorway, Bobby smiled. It was certainly a step in the right direction. Sam and John let go, and Sam looked around curiously.

"Where's Dean?"

John explained. He deliberately left out the part about Dean wanting to go because he felt guilty about what he'd kept from Sam. Sam nodded once John had finished.

"Does he..." he trailed off for a moment "Is he upset?"

John and Bobby exchanged glances, wondering whether to tell Sam the truth. When John realised what he was doing – contemplating lying to Sam again – he shook his head and looked at his son.

"He...feels guilty."

"He thinks I hate him. He thinks I hate him for lying to me and not telling me."

John nodded. Sam looked his father in the eye, and John could see the hidden hurt swirling in their depths. The teenager hung his head dejectedly.

"Is it really true?"

John sighed and nodded, "Yeah."

"They're all real? Vampires, ghosts..."

"Every last one of them," Bobby said.

Sam looked up in surprise, then shrugged, "I suppose I should have guessed you'd be one of them too."

The ensuing silence was broken by the sharp ringing of the phone in the hallway. Bobby went to get it, and John helped Sam stand up, albeit shakily. The teenager hadn't walked for days, and combined with the savage head wound, he was unsteady on his feet.

"It's Dean!" Bobby called.

John and Sam rushed to the phone – Sam a little slower than usual. John took the receiver from his friend.

"Dean? What's going on?"  
_  
"We've found out where the guy's buried. Mary and I are headed out to torch him tonight."  
_  
"Good," John said, relieved. By the end of the night, this nightmare would all be over.  
_  
"Is Sam alright?"  
_  
John glanced down at Sam, who had only just made it to the phone. He handed him the receiver, and Sam smiled.

"Dean?"

**/\/\**

Dean quickly dialled the right number as Mary headed out to the Impala to pack everything in. He waited as it rang. Finally, Bobby picked up.  
_  
"Hello?"  
_  
"Bobby? It's Dean."

He heard Bobby call out to John. A moment later, his father was on the other end of the line, sounding breathless.

_"Dean? What's going on?"_

"We've found out where the guy's buried. Mary and I are headed out to torch him tonight," Dean said, glancing at the door for a second.

_"Good."_

Dean bit his lip as he asked his next question, the one he'd been burning to know for the last two days.

"Is Sam alright?"

There was silence for a moment, and Dean's heart sank like a brick. Silence never boded well.

_"Dean?"_

The voice on the other end nearly made Dean drop the receiver in shock. He quickly recovered and managed to reply.

"Sammy? You okay?"

_"I'm fine. I just woke up. You found him yet?"_

"Yeah. I'm gonna burn the son of a bitch tonight."

_"Look, Dean..."_

Dean cut him off, dreading what his little brother was going to say, "Sammy, I am so sorry. I swear to God I was going to tell you. I just didn't want you to be involved because I didn't want you to get hurt. I've seen Dad come back from hunting with his back torn to shred by a werewolf, and I thought he was going to die. He's still got the scars. I don't want you to end up like that."

_"Dean..."_

"And how was I supposed to tell you that there were scarier monsters out there? How was I supposed to say that everything wasn't as safe as you thought it was? You were so happy, Sam, and I didn't want to ruin that for you. If I could, I would go back and never know about all this crap. But I can't, and I just wanted to make sure that you didn't have to be like me. That you didn't have to grow up wondering if you were going to come home that night," Dean continued on, rambling, his voice starting to crack and break, his eyes starting to water.

_"Listen..."_

"I am so sorry Sammy. I hope to God that you can forgive me lying to you. I never meant to hurt you."

Dean slammed the phone down, choking back tears. He was _not_ going to cry. Not here, not now.

"Are you alright? What happened?"

Dean looked up and saw Mary in the doorway, concerned. He shook his head and ran to the bathroom, locking the door behind him.

He leaned against the toilet, head in his hands. He hoped Sam could forgive him. He knew he would always feel guilty, no matter what Sam said, but there was a part of him that wished Sam would be able to understand why he had done it.

**/\/\**

Sam moved the phone away from his ear, confused. John looked at him questioningly.

"He blames himself. He really thinks I hate him. He didn't even let me say anything."

"He didn't want to hear you say that," Bobby said quietly, ever the voice of reason in an increasingly chaotic situation.

"But I wasn't. I was going to tell him I didn't hate him. But..."

"Come on," Bobby said, putting a hand on Sam's shoulder "You've been asleep for two days. You're damn well going to eat something."

Bobby led Sam away to the kitchen. John watched as Sam walked slowly away, his head down and arms folded tightly across his chest. He sighed sadly. He let his mind wander to Dean and the upcoming hunt. He wondered if Dean would be able to concentrate on the hunt. If he made a mistake, he could die. Jason would make sure of that.

He shook his head and made his way to the kitchen. Bobby's words had made him realise he was starving.


	11. It All Comes Down To This

**My goodness, this has certainly been a long gap between updates! I'm, sorry everyone, but school's started again and I've had tons of homework. Exams are coming up, so I've got to study for those. And there's been some problems at home I'm still dealing with. I'll try and update again soon, but no promises. **

**Anyway, hope you enjoy this chapter! There's actually some action in this! And kinda sweet, in a way. Enjoy! Hugs to to you :D**

Dean wandered through the cemetery, looking out for the familiar, spine-tingling name. His mind wandered with him, meandering through different memories and thoughts. Most of them were about Sam. He wondered if Sam would be okay. He had no idea if Jason would try something back at the house, and if he did, it could end badly. He didn't want anything to happen to Sam.

"Over here," Mary called softly, her voice carrying far in the enclosing darkness.

Dean looked up, startled out of his thoughts. He saw Mary over by one of the graves at the far back of the cemetery, watching him. Her face was shadowed by the torchlight she was pointing at him, so he couldn't see her expression, but he knew it would be something along the lines of impassive mixed with concern. Concern that he might stuff up on this hunt.

He shook his head, walking towards her. He couldn't afford any mistakes. If Jason didn't die, he would continue to torment Sam in any way possible. He would kill him if he could, but not before torturing him the way he had done for years before. Dean knew he had to win this fight, but he wasn't sure he could. He'd fought harder battles than this, but never one with so much at stake. This fight saw Sam's fate turn one way or the other. He couldn't let the chance to pay back the bastard who'd hurt his brother to slip by him again. He'd let the son of a bitch get away once before, and he wasn't going to do it again.

As he reached Mary, they exchanged glances. He could see his mother's face now, and he'd been right. She was worried, and she had every right to be. Dean sighed, waiting for her to speak as he knew she wanted to.

"Are you okay? Can you do this?"

Dean looked at her with determination as he replied, "I can do this. I have to do this. I can't let him get away with everything he's done to Sam and me."  
Mary nodded, and handed him a shovel. The pair started digging in silence, only the cold night air and the quiet chirping of crickets to keep them company.

**/\/\**

"John?"

John looked up as he heard his name being called in a quiet, worried tone. He saw Sam in the doorway, one hand bracing himself against it. He looked terrible, his eyes sunken and half-closed with exhaustion. The cuts on his face were still red and barely scabbed over yet. His skin was pale, and he was shaking slightly as if he were about to fall over.

"What's up?"

"Is Dean going to be okay?"

John sighed, and gestured for Sam to come over. The boy moved slowly, and John could see he was trying not to trip. He sat down heavily in the seat across from his father, hanging his head.

"Sam..."

"I don't want him to do anything stupid. He's gonna do something stupid, isn't he?"

John reached out and put a hand on his son's shoulder. He wasn't sure what to say, because Sam was probably right. In his state, Dean could go either way. He could win this fight, or he could lose. John knew neither he nor Sam was prepared for the consequences if Dean lost. Because if Dean lost, he would die.

"He'll do what he has to to make you safe."

"But what if he doesn't win? What if Jason beats him? He's strong, and now that he's a ghost, he could..."

John cut him off with a small shake. Sam looked at him with defeat, eyes dull, lifeless, tiredness taking over him. John hadn't seen such loss since the time Mary had walked out on him with Sam in her arms. He'd seen it in the mirror for months afterwards. Even now, he still saw it occasionally, but never as strong as he saw it now on Sam's face.

"Sam, Dean's been doing this nearly all his life. He knows what he's doing."

"But..."

Sam trailed off, keeping his worries and doubts to himself for the moment. He gave John a quick look, then slumped, eyes already closing with exhaustion. John caught him before he fell from the chair, and held him close.

"You can't sleep, Sam. Not yet. Soon," he whispered, shaking Sam.

The teenager muttered something under his breath, but didn't move. John stayed still as well, just holding Sam as his son fought off sleep. He brushed the hair from Sam's face, making sure he was still awake. His mind flashed back to a time when he'd done a similar time thirteen years ago, and his jaw tightened at the memory. He could remember holding a little baby Sam, starting to fall asleep after hours of crying and grumbling. He could remember looking down and forgetting all about the fights he'd had with Mary, and all the problems of his life in that one moment. Looking down at Sam now held the same magic. He almost forgot about Jason, and the scars he'd inflicted on his family. He almost forgot about the pain that had been caused to everyone.

"I'm tired," Sam mumbled, closing his eyes again.

John shook his gently to force him awake again, "I know. When Dean calls, okay?"

Sam wrapped his arms around his father's shoulders, and muttered a few words into the silence.

"Okay. Thanks, Dad."

John smiled, in a way he hadn't done in years.

**/\/\**

The thud that echoed through the darkness as Dean's shovel finally hit something solid was gratifying. Dean could hold back a savage, angry grin as he brushed away a little more dirt to reveal Jason's wooden coffin. He glanced up at Mary for a moment. She was standing on the edge of the grave, shining the torch down to give him light. She smiled a little. Dean nodded, and turned to slam the end of the shovel onto the coffin. It shattered easily, revealing a not-yet skeleton. Flesh and skin still clung to the bones, and Jason's rotted face stared out at them. Teeth grinned, and Dean shuddered. It wasn't often he had to dig up a grave so fresh.

He climbed out of the grave with a helping hand from Mary. He took the salt from her, and started to shake it over the body. The white grains clung to the rotting flesh, colouring it a mouldy grey. He paused for a moment.

"This is too easy," he said as he watched the salt seep into the body.

Mary poured the fuel over the body, dousing it until it was soaked. She gave him a quick look, curious.

"It is, a little," she said slowly, pulling out the lighter.

"He wouldn't just let us burn him. He's not stupid. Unless," Dean's mind instantly went to his worst case scenario, the scene that had been playing at the back of his mind ever since he'd demanded to go with Mary to finally get rid of Jason forever. He imagined Sam, back at the house, with Jason taunting and torturing him. His father wouldn't let Sam sleep, would he? Bobby wouldn't either – he couldn't see it happening. He couldn't allow himself to see it.

He looked behind him, tense. He saw a flash of red before he was raised up and thrown violently backwards. He crashed into a gravestone, a crack resounding as his head collided with the stone. He saw stars, and the world spun around him as he tried to stand. He vaguely saw Mary being tossed to the side like a rag doll, and another figure standing over her fallen body.  
_  
Jason  
_  
Dean heard the man's voice floating over to him. He tried to listen as he struggled to stand.

"Trying to get rid of me, eh?" Jason growled, kicking Mary in the stomach as she tried to reach for her salt-loaded shotgun leaning against one of the nearby graves.

"Oh no, you're not going anywhere," he snarled.

Dean staggered, leaning against the gravestone as the world started to slow down and settle. He watched Jason deliver a savage blow to Mary's head. The woman didn't move or make a sound. Jason stared at her for a moment, then turned slowly to face Dean

"Hey Dean. Nice to see you again. Sammy still talking to you?" he said cheerfully.

Dean growled lowly, stalking towards his enemy, eyeing the shotgun behind the ghost. Jason smirked.

"You know Sammy's almost asleep? When he falls, I'm going to go in there, and I'm going to make sure no one can ever wake him up. Salt ain't going to stop me."

"You bastard."

"That's all you got?" Jason laughed, brushing his hands down the front of his jacket. Dean's eyes followed, and he started as he saw the blood still soaked into it.

"Yep. Sammy's blood. Nice little souvenir, isn't it?"

"Stop calling him that," Dean said as he inched closer to the gun, circling around Jason.

"What, Sammy?" Jason chuckled, "Sammy. Sammy, Sammy, Sammy. He's gonna get it, you know. Sammy's gone, and there's nothing you can do about it."

"Wrong."

Dean lunged, his fingers closing around the gun. He felt someone grab his legs, and he was pulled backwards. He held onto the gun like a lifeline, rolling onto his back and aiming. There was a deafening bang as he pulled the trigger and Jason vanished.

He scrambled to his feet, knowing he had to burn the body before Jason returned. He ran to Mary. He needed that lighter.

"Mary?" he shook her, checking her over.

There was blood covering her face – he'd kicked her and broken her nose at the very least. She was unconscious, but Dean realised she was still breathing. The lighter was laying a few paces away where it'd fallen. He snatched it up and ran to the grave, feeling dizzy. He could feel something running down the side of his head, but he didn't have time to check it. He flicked the lighter, but it didn't light.

"Dammit," he muttered as he tried again. And again. Still there was no flame.

"Hm. Not working, hey Dean?"

Dean spun as Jason threw a punch, smashing his cheekbone. He heard something crack as he went down, falling into the grave itself, on top of Jason's body. Fuel and salt coated him, along with flesh and other body material. The lighter still in his hand, he flicked it open once more as Jason jumped down beside him, grabbing the back of his jacket and lifting him up. Dean smirked, just as Jason slammed him against the wall of the grave, dirt running down his back. Jason growled, and Dean chuckled.

"Die, you son of a bitch," he said, opening his hand and letting the lighter fall, the flame flickering as the breeze blew past it.

It all happened in slow motion – or so it seemed. Jason glared at Dean, and moved to throw him. Dean flew through the air, landing in a heap as a whoosh of air and fire rose up from the grave. He saw a tongue of flames shoot up high into the air, sending sparks flying. He rolled to avoid being hit. He was still covered in the same stuff as the body, and he didn't feel like becoming a human fireball tonight. He watched from the ground as the body burned, and Jason's spirit along with it.

The world spun again, and everything went black as warmth ran into his eyes, blinding him. He closed them, letting the darkness take over and block out the fire.

**/\/\**

John looked up as he heard Bobby enter the room. Sam was still trying to fight off sleep, and it was a losing battle. Bobby gave the pair a small smile, but it faded quickly.

"What's wrong?" John asked quietly, to avoid worrying Sam.

"Neither Dean or Mary have called yet. It's almost sunrise."

John nodded. He knew it shouldn't take this long to salt and burn Jason's ghost. Even if he had turned up, it shouldn't have taken them all night. He was worried to say the least, but he hid it deep inside. He didn't need both Bobby and Sam seeing how weak he really was at that moment. If the call never came, he wasn't sure what he'd do. It was a possibility he wasn't allowing to poison his thoughts.

"He's done something stupid, hasn't he?" Sam muttered quietly.

John sighed. It was a genuine prospect that Dean wouldn't be coming back. That the phone would never ring and he would never hear his elder son's voice again. He shook his head, banishing the thoughts. He'd lost one son once; he wasn't going to lose his other one.

"They'll call," he said, faking his confidence.

Bobby raised an eyebrow and gave him a quizzical look. Sam just mumbled something lowly, and sighed.


	12. Just Breathe

**Here's the next chapter for you guys! Hope you enjoy!**

Why did his head hurt so much? Why did everything feel like it was out of his reach, dancing away as he reached out to catch them? It was mostly thoughts he couldn't catch. He was confused, everything aching and he wasn't getting any answers from himself.

It was probably a good idea to open his eyes, but he really didn't want to. He fought over it in his mind, but it wasn't really a fair fight. Every time he tried to come up with a reason to keep his eyes shut, it floated away and was forgotten within moments. He was sure he'd just had the same thought over and over again.

In the end, the only thing to do was open his eyes.

**/\/\**

John sighed, glancing at the clock as he absently ran his fingers through his son's hair, keeping him awake. It was eight in the morning, hours after dawn. Dean and Mary wouldn't be burning the body in daylight, so why hadn't they called? It could only mean the worst in John's mind.

"That's it," he said suddenly, startling Sam out of a half-asleep state.

"Wha..." Sam started, but never finished before dropping his head back down to sleep. John shook him awake as he stood, shifting his son from his lap to the chair.

"I'm calling them. And they'd better answer, for their own sakes."

He walked to the phone, emotions tearing him up inside. Doubt, fear, worry. Were they okay? Had they just forgotten to call? No, Dean wouldn't forget, and neither would Mary. Not on a hunt so important to all of them. Were they lying in a hospital somewhere, unable to contact anyone? John hoped not. Or maybe they were lying dead in the graveyard, killed by Jason's murderous ghost.

He shook his head, pushing the thought from his head. He was not going to think about that, not with Winchester luck hanging over him. He picked up the phone and quickly dialled Dean's mobile.  
He saw Bobby lean against the wall and watch him, curious, as the phone started to ring. John waited as four, five, six rings went by. Then nine, ten, eleven. Eventually, it stopped. John tensed, waiting to see if someone had actually picked up.  
_  
Hey, Dean's phone. Leave a message, I guess.  
_  
There was a beep, and John sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"Dean, where the hell are you? Call me the second you get this."

John hung up the phone with another long sigh, the only way he could release his frustration without hurting someone.

"I'm guessing no one's on the other end?" Bobby asked.

"No."

John felt like punching the wall. Kicking something. He felt so angry inside that he wanted to explode. It wasn't fair. It just wasn't fair. He couldn't lose his eldest son. Not after what they'd been through together. Not after they'd just gotten the family back together. It just wasn't fair.

"John, calm down."

John realised he'd been clenching his fists, a sign he was ready to punch the living daylights out of whoever was unfortunate enough to cross his path next. He relaxed a little, but it was hard.

"Where the hell are they?" John asked, frustrated.

"I don't know. But if they don't call by tomorrow morning, I'll drive up and find them."

John gave his friend a half-smile. Bobby was always there when he needed him. He'd been there when he'd left Mary, he'd been there when he'd had breakdowns. He'd been there as a hunting partner, a babysitter and someone to talk to. Good old reliable Bobby.

**/\/\**

The light was so bright. Was it day already? Shouldn't they have finished the hunt already? If they had, they should have been at the motel. But under him was most definitely not a motel bed. Even they were more comfortable than what he was laying on at the moment.

It took a moment for his eyes to adjust. When they did, he realised he was still in the cemetery. He was on his side, facing a grey marble gravestone. He blinked, trying to get his bearings. His head was still spinning like it was never going to end, and his vision was a little blurry. But he tried to stand anyway, knowing subconsciously that there was some reason he had to.

The spinning inside his head only got worse as he got to his feet. He nearly stumbled a few times, but somehow he managed to stand without falling flat on his face. Which probably wouldn't have been a good thing, considering the state his stomach was in at that moment.

Something vibrated in his pocket, but he barely felt it. He was more intent on figuring out the hell had happened and making his head stop whirling around like a tornado. He looked around, rubbing his eyes to clear his vision. His face hurt like a bitch, and it felt like it was cracking off. He touched his cheek gingerly, then stared at his fingers as dried blood flaked off. That would explain it.

He saw a fallen figure a little way off. And everything came back to him in that moment. The hunt, the fight, the terse exchange between him and Jason. The burning, the flying through the air.

The darkness.

He stopped moving for a moment. The influx of information was overwhelming, and wasn't helping his head stabilise. He stared at the motionless body of his mother, hoping she was okay. She had to be okay. Sam already hated him for lying to him. How would he feel if Dean then went and killed his mother? The only person he'd ever really been close to for most of his life? Dean really didn't want to know.

He made his way over to Mary's side, and fell to his knees next to her. Reaching out a hand, he checked her pulse. For a moment, there was nothing but the touch of cold skin beneath his fingertips.

"No," Dean muttered, closing his eyes.

But there it was, all of a sudden. It flared into life as if it had been waiting for this very moment, waiting for Dean to come. He could feel the faintest throbbing pulse as blood circulated around Mary's body, as her heart pumped.

"Oh thanks God," Dean almost collapsed with relief. Or it may have been the dizziness, he thought humourlessly to himself as he rolled Mary over to reveal her face to the warm sunshine.

Her face was coated in dried blood, as was the grass beneath it. Her nose was out of place and disjointed, and her eyes were closed, blood drying over them and sealing them shut. Dean knew they would be hell to open again. He remembered a time he'd had to wake up to the realisation that he'd been mauled by a wendigo, and nearly died.

"Mary?" Dean called, rather pointlessly he thought, as Mary was all but dead.

He shook her, hoping the movement wouldn't cause him to fall or throw up over his mother. That just wouldn't look good. He called her name again, but to no avail.

**/\/\**

"Dad?" Sam asked quietly as John wandered back into the room, obviously trying to contain his frustration. For the average observer, it may have seemed like John was only breathing deeply to get his breath back, eyes closed for no sinister reason. But Sam, with three years of experience of noticing the signs of frustration in Jason, saw the clenched fists that John was trying to hide. He heard the shakiness as he inhaled, the relief when he exhaled. He saw the tightness of his father muscles, tense and ready for a fight.

John didn't reply. Sam knew it was probably for the best – if he said something, it would either come out wrong, or be emotionally damaging. He may not know his father incredibly well, but he knew the signs. He knew the symptoms.

"They should have called by now," John said quietly, bracing himself against the wall with one hand, the other rubbing tired eyes.

"They'll be okay. They always are, aren't they?"

It was meant to be a rhetorical question. But John saw it as one that needed an answer, and so responded.

"No. They aren't. I don't know how many times Dean had almost died. I can't count the times he came home from a hunt on the verge of death. He's been attacked by every creature you can think of, and more. Werewolf, shapeshifter, wendigo, vampire, a variety of ghosts, demons. They've all tried to kill him, and some of the time they've nearly succeeded. Mary was always a danger magnet as well. Always getting herself into the worst kind of trouble, and nearly having to pay the price every time. They aren't always okay, and that's why I'm worried."

Sam hung his head, wondering whether Dean and his mother were okay. If Jason had gotten them, he would have gotten the two things he cared about the most. Sure, he loved his father, but not the way he cared about Mary and Dean. Mary had looked after him for thirteen years. Dean had saved his life and brought him his family back. If they were dead, Sam wasn't sure what he would do.

The sound of someone clearing their throat interrupted the silence, and John and Sam looked up to see Bobby in the doorway. He folded his arms and sighed.

"I just got off the phone with the motel they were at. They haven't checked out. In fact, they haven't been seen all morning. One of the staff saw them leaving last night, but the Impala isn't there."

"So they're still at the cemetery?" John said, his voice low.

"It looks that way."

The three of them shared a worried glance, all through half-shut eyes. The last night had been rough. No one had slept for the fear of Jason coming and tearing the family apart further. Sam was dead on his feet, and John and Bobby weren't that much better.

"If they don't call in the next hour, I'm driving up," John said.

No one disagreed.

**/\/\**

"Come on, come on, come on," Dean mumbled, shaking Mary harder the more she didn't react. He didn't realise tears were falling until he saw them fall onto Mary's form, tinted red with his blood. The crying only made his head hurt more, but he couldn't stop, even if he'd wanted to.

"I know you're alive. Please just wake up," Dean said. He couldn't bear the thought of losing his mother. He'd lost so much once before. He'd lost his little brother, his mother, a home. He'd almost lost Sam three times, but he was still there. He'd just gotten his mother back. He'd just gotten used to the idea of having a mother again. And now she wasn't waking up. Now she was as good as dead if she didn't open her goddamn eyes.

"Please, just open your eyes. Please wake up. You have to wake up Mum, you have to wake up.. Come on."

Dean continued to mumble under his breath, pleading with his unconscious mother to wake up. He closed his eyes, trying to block more tears from falling. He didn't see the slight movement Mary made, the slight twitch of her mouth as he repeated over and over, "Please Mum."

He didn't see her open her eyes as he was begging her to. The first he knew that she was alive was when he felt someone touch his cheek.

"It's okay Dean. I'm awake now."

He blinked, staring at his mother, now sitting up in front of him. She was smiling, despite the massive amount of pain she must have been experiencing. Dean was silent for a moment, glad to just be seeing her alive.

Then he started to laugh.

Quietly at first. But it gained in intensity, slowly but surely. He threw his arms around his mother and hugged her. Now she was okay, and now Sam wouldn't hate him, and now his father wouldn't kill him, and...

And now his mother was awake.


	13. The Silence Ends

**Yeah, more LTLAL love! Heh, enjoy the new chapter! And thank you to everyone who's reviewed and commented on this story and also I Didn't Know. I really appreciate it. Hugs to you all!**

Sam walked quietly to the door. He didn't want Bobby or his father to hear him – they'd stop him from going. He just needed to get out for a few minutes, clear his head. Sam gently twisted the doorknob and opened the door, sighing in relief as it opened without a sound.

"Going somewhere?"

Sam spun as he heard Bobby's voice. The old man was watching him from a few paces away, arms folded and one eyebrow raised. Sam rolled his eyes and moved to shut the door. Bobby put out a hand and stopped him.

"Come on," he said "It'll stop you from sleeping, and you look like you need some air."  
Sam nodded, walking out the door. Bobby followed him and shut the door quietly.

As they walked down the relatively quiet street, Sam kept his head down, thinking about Dean. His brother had done so much for him. From saving his life repeatedly, to doing his best to protect him from the things he thought Sam shouldn't have to know, Dean had worked hard. It hurt Sam to think that Dean now thought his little brother hated him. He should have known that Sam could never hate him. No matter what he did, he was always his big brother, and the one who'd been there when no one else had. Sam hoped that Dean would come back in a somewhat whole state so he could tell him the real truth.

"Is it hard to be a hunter?" Sam asked quietly.

Bobby looked down at him with a curious glance, "Hard as hell. You're always running from the law, trying to save people without anyone knowing, trying to kill creatures that could rip you apart easily. It sure ain't easy."

"D'you reckon I could be a hunter?"

"It takes skill to be a hunter. Skill with weapons, in fighting, lying, evading all types of things – human and monster alike."

Sam sighed. So even Bobby didn't think he could do it. What was he supposed to do in a family of hunters if he couldn't do the job himself? Useless – that's what he'd be.

"I think you'd be a damn good hunter. At least as good as Dean, and that's saying something," Bobby continued.

Sam looked up in surprise. Bobby smiled slightly, but didn't look down to meet Sam's eye. He just kept walking straight ahead, adjusting his cap. Neither of them said anything for a moment, until Sam finally managed to whisper something.

"Really? You think so?"

"I wouldn't say it if I didn't."

"Dean would be pissed."

Bobby laughed a little, and Sam let a small half-smile creep onto his face. The older man stopped and looked down at the Sam. The teenager ducked his head, suddenly angry with himself. He shouldn't be so happy when Dean and his mother could be lying in some graveyard, dead. His face lost its smile, and he stared at the ground.

"I hope they're okay."

"Knowing how stubborn Dean is, I'd say they'll be fine. He's not going to let some ghost ruin something he cares about."

**/\/\**

Shovelling the remaining dirt over the grave, Dean sighed, wiping a hand over his forehead. With his injuries, the work was twice as hard and debilitating. Mary had offered to help, even take over, but Dean had refused any assistance. Mary had been kicked in the face and laid unconscious for nearly the entire night. She looked like crap, and he wasn't about to let her rebury a grave when she looked the way she did. He wouldn't be surprised if she fell over any second. Then again, he wouldn't be surprised if he did, either.

He eventually let Mary take the shovel from him and lead him to where the Impala was still waiting, the sleek black car the only one in the parking lot. On the way to the motel – Mary was driving, as she'd forced Dean into the back with the threat of having to tell Sam that she'd let Dean all but kill himself – Dean remembered the vibrating in his pocket he'd felt earlier. He fished out his phone. A message on the screen told him he had one missed message. He clicked on it and listened.  
_  
Dean, where the hell are you? Call me the second you get this.  
_  
"They'll be worried sick," Mary said from the front seat "You'd better call them."

Dean nodded vaguely and found the right number in his phone. He pressed it and waited while it rang. He sighed as it rang out and he got the answering machine voice telling him to leave a message.

"Hey, Dad. Um... Yeah, Sam can sleep now. It's safe."

He couldn't think of anything else to say. And he was so goddamn tired, he wasn't going to say more than was absolutely necessary. He was pretty sure he was going to pass out in the back – his head was pounding like someone was giving it a onceover with a jackhammer. He shut his phone and, before he could jam it back into his jeans' pocket, he lost the battle with consciousness and just let the darkness wash over him again, painless and warm.

**/\/\**

It was at least thirty minutes before Sam and Bobby returned from their walk. Closing the door quietly behind him, Sam looked around for his father as Bobby headed to the living room. He was nowhere in sight. Then he heard Bobby sigh with a small chuckle, and he followed the sound.

He smiled as he saw his father in the armchair, fast asleep. He certainly needed it – they all did. But Sam couldn't risk it until Dean called, or until they had some confirmation that Jason was dead. Going to sleep was too risky at the moment.

Sam's gaze wandered to the phone on the wall in the hallway. He sighed in frustration, wishing he could just collapse where he was and sleep for the next week or three. It took him a moment to see the blinking red light that indicated a message was waiting to be heard. It took him another moment to realise what it could mean, and another to actually get over to the phone and press the button.

_Hey, Dad. Um... Yeah, Sam can sleep now. It's safe._

Dean's voice echoing over the speaker made Sam's heart skip a beat in relief. He grinned, leaning against the wall to support himself. It was safe. Jason was dead. After three long years, Jason was finally gone from his life forever. He couldn't touch him now. He was one hundred percent dead this time.

He fumbled with the phone, quickly pressing the numbers he needed. He heard footsteps behind him, but didn't turn to find out who they were. He just waited for the phone to ring and for Dean to pick up.

**/\/\**

Mary hoped no one had noticed her carrying her son into the motel room. With the amount of blood both of them were covered in, it wouldn't have looked good to anyone. She'd managed to clean Dean's wounds and check them out. The most serious one was on the side of his head, where he'd crashed into the gravestone. His cheek was also very bruised and damaged, but that would heal relatively quickly. The first was the one that would cause the most problems. She'd bandaged it up as best she could, and she hoped it would be good enough.

She'd also fixed herself up. Her nose was on its way to healing, and the rest of her injuries had been attended to. Now she was watching her son sleep on one of the beds, snoring lightly. He seemed peaceful, quiet, and content. He wasn't worried about Sam, or her, or anyone else. He wasn't fighting anything, or protecting Sam from something he couldn't avoid. He was just asleep, calm and happy.

A sudden vibrating noise made her jump. Looking towards the table, she saw Dean's phone, which she'd brought in with him, bouncing around and heading towards the edge. She walked over and picked it up before it fell. Opening it, she answered.

"Hello? Dean's phone."

**/\/\**

"_Hello? Dean's phone."  
_  
Sam was slightly surprised that Dean himself wasn't answering, but he was just happy that _someone_ was answering. He flicked a glance back to see Bobby standing behind him, with John by his side watching in curiosity.

"Mum? It's Sam. Are you okay? What happened?" The questions tumbled out in his haste and excitement. He heard his mother laugh from the other end.  
_  
"Sam! It's good to hear your voice. We're fine. The main thing is, Jason's gone for good now."  
_  
"Did you see him?"

There was a hesitant sigh, _"Yeah, we did. But it wasn't anything we couldn't handle."  
_  
"Did he say anything?"  
_  
"Nothing you need to worry about. He's gone now. Is John there?"  
_  
"Where's Dean?" Sam asked, avoiding having to give the phone up.  
_  
"He's asleep. Where's John?"  
_  
Sam sighed and handed the phone over to his father. John gave his son a smile before speaking into the receiver.

"Mary? Is everything okay?"  
_  
"Everything's fine, John. I just wanted to talk to you."  
_  
"What's up?"  
_  
"It's Dean. And before you ask, he's fine. Just asleep. But I'm worried about him. I think he thinks Sam hates him for hiding the whole hunting thing from him. And for the fact that he nearly lost me, but..."  
_  
"He what? What happened?" John asked, starting to panic. Why did Mary always have to get herself into so much trouble? It seemed nothing had changed since before they had broken up and drifted  
apart.  
_  
"It's fine. But he's sure Sam hates him. Does he?"  
_  
"Of course not. Dean called him before the hunt and apologised for everything, but didn't let Sam get a word in. If he had, he would have heard that Sam was saying he didn't care."

He heard Mary sigh in relief on the other end of the line. It seemed everyone was doing a lot of that lately. He glanced over to Sam, who was watching worriedly.  
_  
"Well that's comforting. At least Dean can come back and find out the truth. We're driving back tonight. We'll be there in a few days."  
_  
"Just be careful. It would be just our luck if you crashed on the way back," John joked, and Mary laughed.

As John moved to hang up, Sam dashed forward and snatched the phone from his father's hand. He glanced up in apology as he spoke.

"Mum, can you tell Dean something?"  
_  
"Sure sweetheart, what is it?"  
_  
"Tell him not to worry."

He quickly hung up the phone before Mary could respond. He looked between Bobby and John for a moment, swallowing and rubbing his eyes a little.

"I think I'm going to get some sleep. God knows I need it."

And with that, he raced off. Bobby and John exchanged surprised glances, then smiled and chuckled.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say that was Dean speaking," Bobby smirked.

"They're more alike than they realise," John replied.


	14. Put Me Back Together

**Here's another chapter! The next one may be a little while coming, as in a week or so I've got exams. But after that I'm free for ages! I'll see when I get time to write...**

**And there's only one more chapter to go, guys! Lots of angst, sadness and happiness! Enjoy XD**

It was a long wait.

Even though he knew that he knew Dean and Mary were safe, John was still tense as he waited for them to return home. It was hard; every time the phone rang he jumped, thinking it was Mary or Dean calling to say that something bad had happened. That one of them was dying, or dead. That Jason wasn't gone. That the last phone call had just been his imagination and it was the police calling to say they were both dead.

He shook his head, knowing it wasn't true. Mary was driving back again with Dean. They'd be back in...  
He glanced at the clock, mentally counting the hours that had passed and the ones that still had to come. There was still at least a day before they were due back. He sighed, rubbing his eyes.

"Go get some sleep," Bobby's voice interrupted his thoughts, and John looked up, blinking tiredly.

"I should wait..."

Bobby rolled his eyes and walked over, pulling John up from the chair by his shoulder, "Git going. They aren't supposed to be here for a while yet; you can get a couple hours sleep. You need it, John, you're dead on your feet."

John pushed Bobby away, but knew he was right. He yawned unconsciously and Bobby chuckled. John just shoved him as he walked towards his room. With his eyelids already falling, he wasn't sure he'd even make it there. Hell, he'd take the floor if he had to – he didn't really care at the moment.

**/\/\**

"I can dr..."

"For the hundredth time, Dean, you're not driving."

Dean sighed irritably, folding his arms and sinking further into the backseat. He frowned, hating how his mother was coddling him. He was fine, honestly. Just a little bump on the head, nothing to worry about. He'd driven the Impala in worse conditions.

"Why don't you get some sleep?" Mary said after a moment of silence.

Dean grumbled, "M'not tired."

Mary didn't answer, and Dean rolled his eyes. It was just typical that after saving her life, he would be relegated to the back seat to watch his mother drive the Impala. It wasn't like it was even her car. It wasn't his either, but he treated it as such, and with the amount of time he spent driving it compared to his father, it may as well have been his.

Glancing up at the rear view mirror, Dean frowned as he caught a glimpse of Mary's face. Her eyes blank and staring, and she was biting her lip. It didn't take a genius to realize Mary was worried.

"You okay?" Dean asked, feeling uncomfortable.

Mary shook her head as if to clear it of unwanted thoughts, "Of course, why wouldn't I be?"

Dean shrugged, not in the mood to argue or question. He felt for his mobile in his pocket, considering texting Sam. But then he remembered Sam would probably be asleep for the next week or so, having stayed awake and scared for days. Now that he thought about, Dean realised he was a little tired. He let his head tip back against the seat and closed his eyes.

Within moments Dean had been lost to reality and was traipsing through his own quiet, calm and fantastic dream world.

**/\/\**

"Dean."

He snapped his eyes open at the sound of his name being called, his muscles tensing and his entire body on edge. He looked around quickly from left to right, searching for whatever danger was lurking nearby. Once he'd swivelled his head back to the left again, he realised where he was and who had spoken. He relaxed against the seat, sighing.

"Where are we?" he asked, clearing his throat.

"Just about to pull up at the house," Mary said, her voice dragged down with fatigue.

Dean started, confused, "You drove for all that time?"

His mother just nodded, and Dean frowned. She must be on the verge of falling asleep at the wheel, having driven for two straight days. Especially after having just been beaten over the head by her  
second ex-husband's ghost.

"You should have let me drive."

He heard Mary sigh, and he smirked. He could just imagine what she would say, but she was obviously too tired to be arguing with her smart-ass son. Dean glanced out of the window as Mary turned into their driveway, and the smirk became a relieved smile. He was home, and Sam was just beyond that door. Alive and well.

He jumped out of the car before Mary had a chance to shut the engine off, and he reached the door just as it was opened by Bobby.

"Good to see ya back in one piece, son," Bobby said, clapping Dean on the shoulder. The teenager grinned in reply. Bobby let him past as he greeted Mary, following her son more slowly. Meanwhile,  
Dean raced into the house, desperate to see two particular people.

As he skidded past an open door, he caught a glimpse of who was inside the room. He backtracked and paused outside the entrance and grinned. His father was asleep in one of the chairs, quietly breathing slowly.

"Dad."

John jumped and his eyes flashed open. Dean grinned as he leaned on the doorframe, and John's expression changed from that of confusion to relief.

"You made it back."

"In relatively one piece," Dean said, gently touching the angry red marks along the side of his head where Jason had thrown him against the gravestone.

John nodded and stood up. The pair regarded each other for a moment, before John stepped forward and embraced his son. Dean smiled into his father's shoulder as he hugged him, feeling as if a weight had lifted from him. Jason was gone, and there was nothing else that could ruin this family now.

"I'm glad you're back."

Dean laughed quietly, "You have no idea."

John released him and looked him in the eye, "Have you seen Sam yet?"

Dean stepped back as all the weight that had evaporated suddenly came tumbling back down upon him. Sam. His little brother might be safe from that monster, but there was still the issue of the secret. The secret Dean never got the chance to tell Sam. The one that Dean was sure had broken his bond with Sam forever in a way that could never be fixed properly, if at all. He lowered his head, shame creeping onto his cheeks.

"Go talk to him," was all John would say with a sympathetic look on his face.

Dean backed away and headed for the room he shared with Sam. All the while, his mind whirled with panic and pain. If Sam hated him for what he'd done (or hadn't done, Dean thought), then he wasn't sure he was going to be able to live with himself. Not after he'd hurt Sam so badly when he'd promised to be there for him and stop the hurting.

He pushed open the door and poked his head around the corner. The room was dark, but Dean could hear Sam's slow, rhythmic breathing. He flicked on the lights and walked over to Sam's bed. The boy didn't wake up, but just turned to face his head away from the light as best he could. Dean sat on the edge of the bed and watched his brother. The scars from Jason's final, brutal attack wouldn't fade for a long time, but at least they were on their way to healing. Sam's hair was falling in front of his face, fluttering with every breath. Dean smiled very slightly, barely even there, and put a hand on his brother's shoulder.

Sam awoke with a groan, and blinked. It took a second for Sam to realise through his sleep-muddled brain that Dean was looking at him. _Dean_.  
He sat up like a bolt of lightning had struck him, and threw his arms around his brother. Dean tensed, the reaction nothing like he had been expecting. Sam felt it and let go, leaning back with a confused look.

"Dean, you okay? Did Jason do something to you? He didn't, did he? Are you alright? What's wrong?"

Dean silenced his brother's flurry of questions with a hand, and sighed. Sam waited patiently for an answer, to any of his questions.

"I didn't mean to," Dean said quietly.

"What?"

"I just... I'm sorry."

Dean stood up and started for the door, but a hand around his wrist stopped him. He looked ahead, knowing Sam would be giving him his best puppy dog look and be begging for an answer. He closed his eyes.

"This is about not telling me about hunting, right?"

Dean nodded.

"I tried to tell you over the phone, but you..."

"You don't have to say anything. I know..."

"See?" Sam burst out in a yell, and Dean flinched, surprising himself with his own reaction. He turned to face his little brother, who was standing there with arms folded.

"You're doing it again! Just let me actually finish for once!"

The elder remained silent, and Sam nodded, "Good."

"I was trying to tell you over the phone, but you wouldn't shut up. I don't hate you or anything. I'm not even mad. I know you promised and everything, but I don't care. I know you did it for a good reason. I understand why you didn't tell me. If the positions were swapped, I wouldn't tell you either. So no, I'm not angry. What I am mad about is that you keep thinking I am. It's as if you want me to be angry."

Dean crossed his arms in an imitation of his brother, and glared down at the other.

"You should be! I lied to you, I made your life a living hell, I didn't stop Jason in time, I didn't do anything right! You think I'm some amazing person, Sam, but I'm not! I keep screwing up and every time I do, someone gets hurt!"

"Do you have any idea what you're saying? People screw up all the time, and you're just human. And it's not your fault that any of this happened!" Sam said in a slightly calmer tone.

Dean leaned against the wall, resting his head in one hand as he whispered, "I should have stopped it. I should have killed him when I had the chance, and burnt him there and then."

"But you didn't. You can't change history Dean, and that's just the way it is. You gotta get over this. That's what you kept telling me. Now who's stuck in the past?"

Dean looked up and stared at his brother. Sam gave him a pleading look, one that begged him to see sense. And as he stared at Sam, something clicked into place in his head. If he didn't move on, then no one in the family would. They'd been held back by Sam's healing, but now that was almost done. Sam was over it. But then all this had happened, and the family had been dragged back to the past. Dean had let it get to him and now he was the one pulling the family back. He was the one staking them in the centre of the mire of the past.

He shook his head. It wasn't that easy. He couldn't just forgive himself for all the pain and suffering he'd caused his brother.

"It's not like I can just flick a switch and I'm better again," Dean said.

"I know what you mean," Sam said, giving his older brother a tiny smile, "But you get through it."

Dean allowed himself to smile, and stepped forward. He wrapped his arms around his brother tightly, and Sam did the same.

"He's gone now," Sam said, as if trying to convince himself of the fact.

"Yeah. And now we can move on."


	15. Carry On, Wayward Sons

**It's sad to see it, and it's sad to say it, but this is the final chapter of Learning to Love a Liar.**

**Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed or just read this story, and the first one. This has been so much fun to write! I never thought that this would be so popular, and you guys are awesome! Please, tell me what you think of the stories, I'd love to hear it!**

Dean opened the door quietly and looked inside. Sam was still asleep, quietly snoring as he lay on his back, his bangs shading his eyes. He smiled as he stepped forward and shook his little brother gently. Sam mumbled under his breath and fluttered his eyes open. When he found himself staring at a grinning older brother, he moaned and rolled over.

"Go away," he said, muffled by the pillow he'd just stuffed his face into.

"Aww, come on Sammy! Rise and shine!" Dean laughed.

Sam peeked out of one eye at the clock on the wall beside his bed.

"It's seven. What's so special that you have to wake me up at seven on a Saturday?" Sam asked, sitting up and glaring at Dean through sleep-heavy eyes and fringe. Dean bit back a smirk.

"It's ya birthday, idiot."

Sam stared blankly for a moment before realisation crossed over his face. He rolled his eyes, but smiled slightly as he slid out of bed and punched Dean on the shoulder lightly.

"Jerk."

Dean shot back instantly, "Bitch."

Sam and Dean looked at each other for a moment, then grinned. Sam pulled on one of Dean's old Metallica t-shirts, which hung on his skinny frame, a little too large; but Sam didn't seem to mind too much. Dean left as Sam finished dressing. He waited outside until Sam appeared, now in jeans and a jacket thrown over the t-shirt to ward off the morning's chill.

"Come on," Dean said, steering Sam to the kitchen. Sam went without protest, although he did roll his eyes again and sigh. Dean just smirked, knowing what was waiting for his brother in the next room.

As Sam and Dean entered the kitchen, Sam shuddered to a halt. Dean grinned. Their parents were standing there with massive smiles on their faces. On the table was a small cake with the number fourteen iced onto the top. Sam looked from Mary to John to Dean and back again before finally settling on the cake.

"What..."

"Happy Birthday," Mary smiled, walking forward and hugging her son.

Dean stepped back as Sam spoke with their parents. He could see the happiness on his little brother's face and he knew that everything he had done to protect and look after him had been worth it. It always had. He would do anything for Sam, and the younger knew it. In the past two months after Jason had been vanquished once and for all, Dean and Sam had had quite a lot of time to work things through. And now, Dean thought as he watched Sam hug his father – the man he'd refused to call by anything other than his name – it's like everything is finally coming together.

Dean was thrown out of his thoughts by Sam as the boy hugged Dean and smiled. Dean hugged him back and responded with a similar grin. The two boys separated and looked at each other with laugh.  
Sam moved to take some of the cake whilst Dean looked on with a satisfied smile. There was much more meaning in the birthday than most people would think, Dean thought quietly to himself. It wasn't just another year, another birthday to celebrate. This marked the beginning of a new stage. When Dean had found Sam, the younger had been thirteen. Now he was fourteen. One year older, and he was leaving behind the pain of the last few years. He was pushing away the heartache and suffering in favour of a new life with his real family.

Things were definitely looking up. They'd had their ups and downs, their troubles and their good times. But despite the pains and suffering they'd gone through, they'd finally managed to come through to the other side mostly intact.

Dean couldn't wait to tell Sam what his birthday surprise was.

**/\/\**

Sam stared in absolute surprise as Dean revealed his secret. Dean couldn't help but smirk at the look on his little brother's face.

"Seriously? You'll teach me?"

Dean chuckled, "No, I'm going to let you behind the wheel and watch you go."

Sam grinned, and Dean gestured to the driver's side of the Impala, "You going to get in?"

Sam hesitated for barely a second before he ran past his brother to the car. Dean rolled his eyes as he walked around the car and slid into the passenger side. Sam, already knowing the very basics, started up the car. The radio spluttered into life, and Highway to Hell ripped through the speakers. Dean grinned and started singing along, but was stopped mid-lyric as Sam switched it over. He glared at his brother and opened his mouth to complain, but Sam beat him to it with a knowing, sarcastic half-smile.

"You know the rules, Dean," he said, and Dean rolled his eyes, leaning his head against the seat and wishing he'd never come up with the damn rule.

"Driver picks the music..." Sam started, and Dean groaned.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Just shut up and drive, okay?"

Sam chuckled and pressed his foot down on the accelerator. The Impala jerked forward at the speed of light, and Dean yelped as Sam slammed on the brake. Sam gave his brother a sheepish look.

"Careful with her!" Dean cried, running a hand through his hair and wondering if teaching Sam to drive in his baby was such a good idea after all.

Sam tried again, this time a little more gently. The Impala rolled forward, and Dean smiled.

"Better."

"You be careful with that car!" the boys heard John yell from the door of their newly rented house, far across the country from the horrors that had befallen them. They laughed.

As Sam continued to carefully navigate the black classic, Dean thought back to those days. The days when the most dangerous thing he could do was hunt down a vampire. When the most blood he'd ever seen had been a gash across his father's chest from a werewolf. When the hardest thing he'd had to do was survive three days in a wendigo's den. And when he was closer to a 1967 Chevy than his own father.  
Now everything had changed. Everything was different, but Dean certainly didn't mind. It'd been a change for the better.

A year ago, Dean thought, he wouldn't have wanted anything to change at all. He just wanted to keep on hunting with just has father for company. Driving the Impala, having fun, faking being a journalist or a student or whatever else was needed. He'd never thought he could even have a brother, let alone have to save one. But since finding Sam, his life now had some meaning. He wasn't just killing the next monster of the week, whether werewolf, shapeshifter or spirit. He had a proper, normal job – being a big brother.

When he'd met Sam nearly a year ago as the younger had walked into school with his head down, Dean knew there was something special about him. He always had, even when he had nothing to go on but his gut feeling. Most people would think he was crazy for jumping in between a kid and a madman with a knife, especially as he barely knew the boy then. But Dean would have done anything for Sam despite knowing nothing about him, simply because he knew he had to.

Because that's what big brothers do.


End file.
